High Profile
by raileht
Summary: A man, a woman and a thirteen-year-old girl with a wicked streak. Who says Senators have it easy? AU
1. Chapter 1

**High Profile  
**by: raile

**Summary: A man, a woman and a thirteen-year-old girl with a wicked streak. Who says Senators have it easy? AU  
Disclaimer: **the ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Note: **_written and posted December 12, 2012. Originally as a Secret Santa gift. Unfinished but will be soon enough with the chapters already done._

* * *

**Chapter One: Come Fly with Me**

"And then Neesa said she'll try and get Caitlin to ask Mandy to join our sleepover but then Grace said Becca didn't like Mandy because she has a big mouth but _I _like her and she's okay. Remember her? You met her. She was the one with the pretty braids and stuff. Mandy, her name is, but did you happen to catch her real name? Mandolin. I mean, how _cool_ is that?"

The dark blonde whirlwind chattered away, her phone in one hand and her backpack slung over her arm as she regaled him with tales of what had transpired the night before. She'd spent most of the time Skyping with her friends, the same group of girls she'd left behind only a week prior but he knew well enough that at the age of thirteen, a week might as well be a month and god only knew what the young girl might have missed while she was away.

And apparently, her annual holiday sleepover was commencing already in terms of planning. This was her third year and it seems the guest list was growing. Logic dictated he tell her to try and hold up a little, try a little less sugar and maybe try and trim the list considering she already had eight names compared to the six from the year before. He survived six but he doubted he could do as well with nine, counting his daughter as well.

Parental guilt dictated he let her have her friends, have a social life and be thankful she had yet to reach the 'bratty' stage where dads stopped being cool and secrets were the priority. Parental guilt further dictated he be thankful she had even taken her eyes off her cellphone, a gift from a well-meaning yet also guilt-ridden pair of Washington DC-based grandparents, long enough to recognize his existence.

"Oh, my god! Natalie Flores just started following me!" came the squeal, "Ooh…and Marty-that's Martha, but she 'changed' her name to Marty-just tweeted about our homework. Ew. And Justin Bieber. Barf."

And that was his cue, he thought wryly, as he heard yet another thing about _tweeting_. As if texting wasn't bad enough, now there was Twitter and a cellphone with internet access at the first available change of Wi-Fi. He wasn't sure who he hated more Guilty Grandparents or Steve Jobs and his crew. iPhones, as far as he was concerned, were a yet to be determined gift/curse.

"Dad, you promise we'll make cocoa, okay? Cate needs convincing that you make the _best _so blowing her away is a _must_ or else I'll have to go nuclear on her."

He chuckled, shaking his head a little and decided _maybe_ being phased out of his little girl's world wasn't as near as he thought. "Sure, baby," he said, having the endearment slip before he could even stop himself.

Thankfully, his daughter seemed to be in a good mood and let it pass. Either that or she felt safe enough in her current anonymity in DC to worry _someone might hear_. Getting home to Chicago would be, of course, another story. He knew then the rules would go back as to where they were a week ago.

He was relieved he stopped short of kissing her head, as he was accustomed to do. She wasn't in the brat stage yet but even he knew dad showing _too much _affection was a kiss of death as early as the age of eleven. He wasn't _that _uncool of a dad.

"What's going on anyway…?" the girl asked just as they reached the counter as an irate woman swiftly moved past them in a huff.

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

"I told you! I told you we should have _buried_ that bitch!"

"But—"

"I mean, the _gall_ of that-that—"

"Eli, your heart."

The pacing stopped mid-step and Eli Gold stood stiffly, taking a deep breath that was supposed to calm him and, of course, did not. It never worked anyway but he ignored that, considering it would have to do. His phone was clutched in one hand, the other clenched into a tight fist. Next to him, his assistant sat in a seat in the back of the area that had been appropriated for them while they waited to board their flight.

Slowly, he turned, facing the direction where the voice had come from, "My _heart_? How about _her_ heart? How about _I _rip _her_ fuc—"

"_Eli_," this time the teasing had dissipated form the voice and, instead, cool steel laced itself into his name.

Diane Lockhart stood, dressed in a more understated yet stylish outfit that consisted of a simple purple dress that hugged her slender form beautifully and a pair of black high heeled peep toes with a silk bow. She had shed her black coat, favoring the controlled temperatures of the airport and felt comfortable enough not to bundle up. One article after another had already been written about her choice of clothes and had already endured favorable comparisons to the likes of Jackie Kennedy, Hillary Clinton and Carla Bruni.

She had also been accused of being a clotheshorse—the less than admirable effort on the part of the opposition at the time back when she'd first ran for Governor—but that had been easily squashed.

Diane Lockhart had opened her closet to them, showing them that she _did not_ shop exclusively in designer places and rather chose her clothes more to her tastes than tags. She had also introduced them to one of her then private endeavors for the Salvation Army and as well as various organizations that gave away clothes as well and raised money by selling them to have the profits go to fund building houses for families and as well as helping abused and neglected children.

Also, it helped that she had a former-sister-in-law who happened to be a designer who also had friends who were more than ready to help provide wardrobe for one of Illinois' favorite Democrats. She was now hailed by both the fashion magazines as well as the style sections of newspapers all over the country, often voting her one of the best dressed public figures without leaving her to be roasted for her spending.

That was still the case now as she was the newly appointed Senator Diane Lockhart of Illinois, having won the seat of Howard Lyman in the most recent Senate Elections. The former Senator had declined to vie for reelection just after the historical win of the President and Eli Gold, the brilliant political strategist who was known for his success rate and had virtually carried her towards the Governorship and now the Senate, had jumped at the chance months prior when there had only been rumors of Lyman's decision.

Now, just a month and a few days after her win, Senator Diane Lockhart was now looking forward to being granted a chance to just sit back and relax. She could not remember the last time she had a real rest, of a full night's sleep or even a moment to take it all in. The holidays were her reprieve and even though she loved and appreciated Eli Gold, she was also looking forward to giving him up to his daughter before they were due back to the trenches for the New Year. Of course, the same went with her staff. She couldn't wait to get to her home in Chicago for the holiday season.

Eli took another deep breath, nodding slowly and made a motion for his assistant to disappear and he did, without a word, slipping away from the area and left the two alone.

"I've always admired how well you've trained that young man," amusement now coated her words as well as filled the mischievous spark in her eyes, "I could only ever dream having such an…_impact_ on people that way but it takes a certain amount of viciousness that I find rather…unnecessary."

"And that's why you have me, Senator," he said simply, stuffing both hands into his pockets and gave the most pleasant smile he could muster with his gritted teeth. "Though I do believe you're selling yourself short. You have your own brand in terms of _making an impact_."

The woman smiled, at first coy but then it turned playful and with a more elegant and gentler motion than his towards his assistant, she motioned for him to take a seat. He followed and they sat together, taking the molded plastic chairs linked together and sat at the back end of the row. They were, for the most part, alone, and this only meant that she'd held back the others to speak to him.

Silence at first but as was customary for them, he was waiting for her to speak first.

"Victoria Adler?"

He nodded, his neck stiff and a distinct twitch in his jaw fluttered, "Yes."

"The blast from _Snark_?" she asked, wrinkling her nose a little as she named _Snark is the New Black_, a news rag that specialized in diving through the murkier waters of politics.

Usually, their reports online and on hard copy were laced with snark and sarcasm, unearthing even the most unsavory, best kept secrets of politicians in the Midwest. They were trash, they were vicious but they were also fact-based most of the time and had indeed been instrumental in toppling the likes of Diane's predecessor.

Eli had always prided himself that his candidate had yet to grace their pages, but that would no longer be the case now as he pointed towards the iPad that had been left behind by his assistant, occupying the seat they'd left between them and glared at it.

He waited for her to pick it up, but realized she wasn't and instead, looked at him with the most neutral expression on her face. Nodding towards the offending piece of technology he took yet another breath.

"They're claiming to have detailed reports of a yet unnamed arrest from when you were sixteen," he rolled his eyes, "It's absurd and a load of crap, of course, but Victoria Adler has been named as the source of it…god knows that bitch is out for _your_ blood, but apparently, since she can't find _anything _on you, she's decided desperation's route would be trying to smear you just weeks after—"

"It's not true," she smiled, chuckling a little and shook her head, "Vicky is just feeling less than merry this season, you know that, Eli. She's upset, but she's not a threat. At least, not one to give yourself a coronary for."

"We could have buried her," he said snidely, "We _should _have buried her."

They could have, but Diane had put a stop to that. The woman was old, bitter and, as the kids would say, _pissed off_ but she also felt some kind of affection towards her. Victoria Adler had been her mentor in a lot of ways, back when she was just a fledgling Assistant United States Attorney. Victoria had also lent her hand and helped carry on to help her rise to taking on the Deputy position and _then_ State.

The woman continued to smile, "She's many things, Eli, and yes, she hasn't been the friendliest these days, but...she taught me everything I know and she had her hopes. She counted on a lot of things when she put her faith in me. And now they're gone. You understand her anger?"

"Yes, but who told her to pin her _other_ hopes on a train wreck that was Scott-Carr?" he rolled his eyes, "If she had so much faith in you, she should have stuck with this campaign, but _noooo—_"

"I know, I know," she smiled, "But believe me, just give her time…Vicky will come around. If not, she'll lose steam and we won't have to worry about her."

Diane would have gladly continued her friendship with Victoria and had, in fact, intended to, knowing they both worked for a lot of the same causes both in their State as well as the country, but Victoria had made an error of supporting Wendy Scott-Carr, former State's Attorney of Cook County, who had recently resigned after being accused of corruption.

Victoria had tried to shield her candidate then, tried to help Wendy and had tried to reach out to Diane weeks away from elections. Eli had put a stop to that and rightfully so since just after the Senate Elections, Scott-Carr announced her resignation from her office.

It had gotten out that Cook County Judge Victoria Adler was a close relation of Scott-Carr and she had, subsequently, been included in the backlash that followed the disgraced politician's downfall. In turn, Victoria blamed Diane, accusing her of turning her back and being ungrateful. Diane took a brunt of it, even though Eli had lashed out right back in privacy, daring Judge to deny that he _had_ warned her about her latest protégé.

"And the rumored arrest?" he knew it was a load of crap, but he asked anyway, just to clear the air. He did not get to where he was—as well as his candidate—by being an idiot.

"A ploy," Diane smirked, "Not a very good one and, honestly, not Vicky's best _but_ I assume she was holding back. She could make so much more noise, but she didn't. There's something left there, Eli."

"Would I even want to _know_ what _else _could be left?"

"I wouldn't know," she smiled serenely, "But it's the holidays and we have a full year ahead, if I'm not mistaken...can't we just settle for now and let everyone breathe? I need it, so do you. How's Marissa?"

"Fine," he sighed, "Still making noises about heading off to Israel. She's loving the idea of needling me with the fact that I have this image of the Israeli version of her blowing her up to pieces in the middle of the desert."

"I thought she was talking about visiting a kibbutz?"

"Yeah, and of _course_ nothing ever happens in places like that!"

She chuckled, "You are _so_ melodramatic—"

"Excuse me!" he said, an indignant fire alighting his features.

"—but I _understand_," she said, raising a hand and effectively cutting him off so she could finish. "But she is every inch your daughter, Eli, and believe me, she's only just begun."

"Oh, hell, do _not_ tell me that."

She laughed, the melodious sound filling their quiet area and drifting towards the front. It was as infectious at it always was and the political strategist found himself laughing along, only to have it cut short when he saw two men dressed in the clichéd yet apropos black suits coming towards them. Instantly, the laughter died away from his lips and he straightened up, alerting his companion who followed his gaze.

Her reaction was the same, the humor disappearing from her features to be replaced by a more serious expression as she stood up and met the two men and waited. Eli, ever alert, stood at the same time.

"Problem, gentlemen?" Eli asked coolly though he found himself clenching his fist again as his heart's pace picked up a notch. They were in an airport and to have those two obviously break the boundaries that had been set by the woman in charge had set to be able to speak to him, there had to be something serious happening.

"There's a possibility of a situation," the head of security of the detail assigned to the Senator from Chicago said in a practiced tone they only ever heard whenever he felt there was _something_ to be worried about. "Undetermined as of now, but we're looking into it."

"What situation?" the woman asked, calm and poised though Eli was sure she was reacting just as she was _inside_. They were pros when it came to appearances, but he's been with her long enough to know.

"We're checking, ma'am, but we would feel much better if we can get you to a more secure area?"

"We're secure enough," she looked around, seeing the private waiting area that had been delegated to them.

Normally she would have refused such a blatant display of special treatment but since taking her position as well as the current possibilities laid out for her by the President that already had the news networks buzzing, she knew she was likely to attract more attention than usual. She didn't like this part of the job, of being a public figure, but she went on with it anyway, knowing she didn't have much of a choice.

"It's just us and my staff, surely causing more disruptions is unnecessary?" she questioned, her tone modulated in an effort to not be as difficult as possible. Their jobs were hard enough, to have a stubborn and bullheaded protectee was surely not the additional baggage that could make their jobs easier, "It's a full airport, Mr. Coyne, and the attendants are already out on a limb accommodating us as well as the passengers on this busy holiday season. Surely a bit more of a confirmation should be in order?"

"Of course, Senator, but protocol—"

"What exactly is going on, Justin?" Eli cut in, "What situation?"

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

"You're kidding."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we'd like to offer you-"

"No, no," he shook his head, "We booked _this _flight. We're not about to sit here for another _five_ hours for the next one. Somebody obviously made a mistake and I don't care who as long as you fix it."

The flushed airline attendant opened her mouth to say something, only to close it again as she continued to furiously run her hands over the keyboard in her station. The flight to from Washington, DC to Chicago was fully booked already, including the extra seats and while she knew she wasn't the one responsible for that, someone sure was and she was paying for it. The man in front of her didn't seem dangerous, but he was irate to say the least and the young girl next to him was obviously uncomfortable.

But the flight was booked and there was nothing else she could do except apologize. It wasn't as if he was wrong since he had indeed booked the flight and had come in during the appropriated time for checking in. The main problem, she guessed though wouldn't dare say, was the sudden arrival of a certain group that took the rest of the available seats. With the holidays, overbooking wasn't out of the ordinary and she was pretty sure whoever was responsible had decided they could just apologize and book the other passengers to a later flight to accommodate the first ones who had arrived.

Still, even knowing that, what could _she _do? She just manned the desk. And it didn't help that she risked a glance at the girl again, catching sight of her light gray eyes and pale skin. She'd been such a chatterbox when they approached, now she was next to whom she assumed was the father, standing quietly with an occasional confused look on her face, sure to be wondering just what happened.

"I'm sorry, Mr.—"

"Excuse me, is there a problem here?"

The woman behind the counter froze, recognizing the face instantly after having her friend point him out before she ended her shift. She was glad she _barely_ stammered when she explained the current situation—overbooked flight and the two passengers in front of her, who had already supposedly booked online, had lost their seats by some sheer mistake.

"And we would very much like to get back to Chicago," the man finished for her, looking just as displeased as before. If he knew the other man or if he even cared, it didn't show. Instead, he continued, "I'm due for court tomorrow and my daughter is due for an event in her school. If we take the later flight, she won't get any sleep."

"Daaaad," came the whining beside him, this time the girl inching away from her parent with the scowl that was typical of kids her age whenever parents started embarrassing them.

"Oh, you're a lawyer, sir?" Eli Gold said conversationally, a smile crinkling the edge of his eyes.

"Forensics," the other man replied, "Though I honestly can't figure why that should matter, what I do."

"Dad," this time, the girl was close to her father, tugging on his tan coat though she wasn't looking at him.

"Not now, Mad," he said simply, turning to the attendant again.

"No, dad, seriously..."

"I'm Eli Gold," the other man offered. "Now, Mr…?"

"McVeigh," he said and watched as the other's man's eye twitched a little. "Kurt McVeigh."

"McVeigh?" the suit echoed and Kurt didn't need a neon sign to realize the reason behind the reaction.

He waved his hand absently, "Changed it from _Bundy_."

Eli stared at him for a moment before he began to laugh, nodding as he smoothed down the front of his obviously expensive suit, "A man with a sense of humor. Very good."

Kurt shrugged, "My daughter, Madison."

The blonde, her height reaching nearly up to her father's shoulder, waved feebly behind him and muttered something that only her father seemed to hear since he reacted by shaking his head a little, more out of what seemed like a tired gesture than an impatient one.

Eli smiled in a way that told him he understood the trials and tribulations of impatient teens. He nodded slowly, closing his eyes for a moment in an effort to restrain himself before turning towards his daughter.

"I'm sorry to barge in like this, but I was just wondering if perhaps there's a problem?"

"Actually, yeah," Kurt motioned towards the counter, "Just some…errors in booking."

Eli turned to the attendant and she nodded, "We overbooked and unintentionally bumped the McVeighs. It was an honest mistake, sir."

"Of course," the man nodded, glancing at the father and daughter as the girl seemed to suddenly come to life, pulling at her father's coat almost impatiently while looking in another direction.

"Dad…?"

"Not now, Mads."

"Dad, seriously…"

"Madison."

"Dad…"

Eli was reminded of his own more headstrong offspring as he watched as the man visibly restrained himself and turned to his daughter with an expression on his face that he was also quite familiar with, "Yes, Madison?"

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

Diane Lockhart liked to think she had good instincts and she did.

It has served her well over the years and she had learned to anticipate not just in the world of politics but in her everyday life as well. It was an instinct she liked to think she inherited from her father, the reason why she was where she was. He had had big dreams for her, she had followed him and now, here she was. She'd learned early in life being an idiot didn't quite pay off as much as people thought.

And that's what led her to pulling her aide back seconds only after dispatching her to follow after Eli Gold who had volunteered to deal with the situation that had the hairs of her detail standing up on end like cats sensing danger. She wasn't surprised Eli would volunteer, knowing he would also do a damage assessment in between finding out.

Sending the aide was really something she'd decided upon by herself, wanting to at least have an idea what was happening at the counter. There was a man, a girl who had his features she assumed was his daughter and a flushed attendant. Even from the area where she was separated, she had observed through the glass walls that were free of the frost design that were popular at the moment.

The head of her protection detail, Justin Coyne, had bristled, of course, telling her it was best if she stepped back, but she didn't. She didn't mean to be a pain, but if she was honest at all, she was sick of this part of the deal. She wasn't dense, she knew the reason why her detail had been upped and the numbers added. Her position was higher, made her an even bigger target. Plus, there were also other things that were being attended to behind the scenes that were making waves even though, as of now, they were still just whispers amongst certain circles.

Her instincts kicking in, Diane realized that the upping of her detail—effective as of three days prior, the Treasury Department declaring it a precaution for the holidays though _she_ knew better—had ended up adding to the number of seats they were taking in the plane. She had not been informed of that, not while the airline personnel had all but tripped all over themselves trying to accommodate her, the extra seats they'd gotten had obviously ended up in the 'situation' that was developing.

This was beyond what she had intended and she hoped it wasn't what Eli had disregarded as well after a rather heated debate as to whether or not the increase in security was necessary for a trip back home. Eli had won that round, but only after a few underhanded swipes of his own. There was no apology but there had been a silent communication that had Diane forgiving her political strategist-turned-Chief of Staff.

It was bad enough that something like _this_ could get out and be taken out of context, which was almost an inevitable these days with all the blogging and tweeting in the current age. To have to be responsible in causing yet another disruption in someone else's life, especially this time of year, was not something she felt entirely too comfortable adding to things to live with.

"Stay back, Justin," she said over her shoulder after calling her aide back and ignored the look of utter surprise on the younger woman's face. She'd done far more outrageous things in the past to warrant such looks so Diane easily ignored it.

"But Sen—"

"You heard me," she said simply, "We can't afford to draw any more attention that we already have. This may be DC but you know as well as I do, the sight of an imposing man in a black suit still draws attention just because a lot of people think the Secret Service are _cool_."

The romanticizing of bodyguards and agents were easily something she could chalk up to literature and the media. For her, it was constricting, something she could have lived without if it was at all possible. She just wanted some room to breathe, that was all. She could do the job for ten decades or twenty, she was sure she would never quite get used to having a group of men and women follow her like living and breathing shadows.

Coyne stood back, clearly displeased, but nodded anyway although she did not miss the fact that his eyes met that of his other agents'. He will stay back, but that didn't mean they would be far. She could easily predict now that as soon as she turned her back, someone would be skirting around her radius anyway and track her as well as the people around her. She wanted to scream already but she knew better.

How the President and his family dealt with this, knowing his security would be _far_ more constricting, heavier and stricter, she didn't know. The kids especially, she wondered of them. But she also knew their positions were direr than hers. Those children and their mother were prize targets, had reasons to be afraid. She had yet to reach that point, to feel that kind of need to be protected. Eli told her sooner or later she would feel that, but she hadn't yet. Not when she was Governor and not in the last month as Senator.

She hoped she would never feel that kind of need, knowing that _if_ she ever did, that would mean she would be feeling a kind of fear she hasn't quite felt. It's the kind of fear she _never_ wanted to feel because as much as possible, she liked to pretend she was normal, as normal as one could get with a job like hers.

Walking past the glass doors that separated her from the other passengers, Diane strode forward with the same grace and poise she would whether entering the Senate or someone's living room. With the coverage of the election and particularly those that had been aimed at her and her win, she knew there were people bound to take notice. People looked, huddled and leant their heads together when she passed.

Some who managed to make eye contact as they stared received a polite smile that was kind enough to cajole them into smiling back but not enough for a light to reach her eyes. Catching sight of them, people in groups, maybe friends and family, all headed somewhere together for the holidays, suddenly recalled that feeling of emptiness she'd been trying to ignore as of late.

Diane wondered if they had some sort of idea that she would easily have traded her life with theirs to have even just a little of what they had, maybe feel what they feel sharing the season with people they truly cared about and loved. She was flying back to Chicago with her staff, but they would be headed back to their own families for the holidays and while she had plans of her own, parties scheduled and old friends to see, it still wasn't quite as the same.

She shrugged off the thought, catching sight of a shy little girl ducking behind a chair and peeking at her and she smiled back, a real one this time. She could have sworn, despite the distance, she heard the giggle as the mass of curls bounced on the child's head. That warmed her heart a little but did little to quell the brush of emptiness.

Approaching the counter, the young girl with the man who was still in conversation with Eli, was the first to catch sight of her. Diane was used to meeting teens, especially during campaign season, but this one was a little younger than the typical group she met with. She couldn't have been more than fourteen at most, but judging from the jeans, sneakers, the bright red jacket and dark blonde hair that was left freely down the middle of her back and the particularly innocent look that only a child could have, she imagined the girl could be younger.

Why that struck her, Diane wasn't sure, but she smiled at the girl gently anyway and pretended not to notice her begin to tug at her father's coat.

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

"Dad, it's—" a nail painted in an electric blue peeked through finger-less gloves she wore, her eyes wide and her other hand still holding on to her father's coat.

By the time he turned, a woman was already next to him, intercepting the suit he'd just begun speaking to. His daughter clung to his side, phone forgotten in her pocket as she stared at the woman. He knew her, they both did and he was pretty sure most of the people in the area did as well.

She was the Senator who'd stolen the seat right from under Patrick Tilderbrook, the Republican whom a lot had predicted would wreak enough havoc in the current administration and add to the numbers of the members of their party.

It did not escape him how the suit stepped back, nodding almost imperceptibly as the woman took over, keeping a distance though not straying too far away. Both men's eyes met though they didn't say a word while his daughter clung to him even closer, calling him quietly though he wasn't sure if she was truly aware. He'd never quite seen that look before, but he could guess it was akin to being star struck.

"Excuse me," the Senator said in a startlingly soft voice than he had imagined though she was speaking to the attendant behind the counter, "Would it be possible to speak in private?"

"O-of course, Senator," the woman answered, smiling nervously, "But I-I could call my supervisor, if you'd like…?"

"That would be nice," the Senator smiled, "Thank you."

As if by magic, said supervisor didn't take more than five seconds to appear after the request, standing behind the counter with a gracious smile, "Yes, Senator?"

If the politician was startled by the sudden appearance of the man, it didn't show. Instead, she allowed him to lead her away, mostly in the direction from where she came from and he didn't miss the intimidating yet subtle figure in a few feet away, most probably tailing her every movement.

Kurt pretended he didn't notice the way the Senator's dress looked or the part where he wondered if she wasn't cold without a coat. He also pretended he hadn't had some kind of reaction when her eyes met his for less than a second before she was led away or how she looked even more attractive in person.

"Dad that was…" his daughter tugged at his coat insistently again, her light blue eyes still wide and full of awe and he was sure he knew what was coming next. "That _was_ Senator Lockhart…Diane Lockhart. I've seen her on TV. She's from Chicago. She spoke at my school. She _so _pretty in person. Oh, my god, dad. Dad?"

Madison McVeigh hadn't babbled like that in a while and the things she said were things he knew already. She wasn't exactly one of those kids who glued themselves to CNN or the newspaper, but she knew of the woman. The coverage had been strong the last few months and he remembered the then Governor had made quite an impression on the girl when she was younger. The Senator had beaten him to being 'cool' in Madison's eyes back then too.

"Yeah," he nodded, fairly amused as he looked at his daughter but their interaction was interrupted before he could risk teasing her.

"You're on top of our waiting list and—oh," the attendant began, only to beam at him, "There's been _one_ cancelation, sir. A seat for Chicago-"

He blinked, "One seat?"

"Yes, sir."

Kurt tried not to let his frustration resurface, "My daughter is _thirteen_. We're going to need _two_."

"It's okay, dad," Madison piped up, apparently out of her daze and poking her father on the arm with a wicked grin, "I don't mind leaving you behind."

And of course, since she was back to her smartass self, the glare he shot her way didn't do a thing. Madison only responded to that whenever she knew she actually did something wrong.

"We still have thirty minutes before boarding, sir," she said, almost quietly. "If another opens, you _will _be first on our list."

"Come on, dad," Madison said, sobering somewhat as she pulled his arm off the counter, "She's done her thing, let's just sit down."

The shift in her behavior had him noticing then-his teenager was pretty normal in terms of mood swings, but to go from smartass to 'the good daughter' was curious.

"You okay, Mads?" he asked as he followed her, sitting down next to her and peering at her closely.

She smiled, sheepish, "Fine, dad. Too much excitement? And," she gave him a grin, "I didn't sleep enough last night. I just wanna go home."

He nodded, putting an arm over her slim shoulders and felt even more curious as she merely slumped on him without a sign of protest or anything of the sort. "I know. I'm trying."

Kurt sat back, pulling his daughter along and closed his eyes, wondering just what the hell he'd done this time to get this trip get all bungled up. The past week had been spent doing one activity from another and he'd been for all of it, going with his daughter and his in-laws as they showed her around the nation's capital. She was beat and he knew that could explain the sudden shift and that made him want make sure they got on that flight even more.

Chicago was calling them home.

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

"Mr. McVeigh?"

He opened his eyes, blinking a little as he sat up properly and Madison untangled herself from his grasp. The same attendant stood in front of them with a smile on her face. In her hand, she held boarding passes.

"We found two seats for you and your daughter, sir," she went on, "You can start boarding in fifteen minutes."

Madison let out a sigh, "Thanks!"

Kurt reached for the papers that were being handed to him, peering at the numbers then frowned at the woman, "We're not in the same seats?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's the best we have," she said apologetically, "We can put one of you in business class and we can _assure_ you that we will have someone watching over your daughter-"

"_Business class_?" his daughter echoed, grinning now as she perked up, "I've never flown business class before! Holla!"

"That's not acceptable," he shook his head, "You can't just think I'll let my daughter fly—"

"Dad, you are being so uncool," his daughter muttered next to him then her eyes widened, "Dad! I bet it was _her_! I bet it was…" she looked around, grinning to him with twinkling eyes and leaned forward to whisper as if they were sharing a secret, "_The Senator_."

"Madison McVeigh."

The girl looked affronted by the slight rebuke and reared back, "What? Come on, dad!"

Kurt stood up, towering over the other woman even though that was not his intention, "This isn't allowable, I'm sorry. My daughter may think she's all grown up, but _no_. She's _thirteen_."

And he knew just what exactly his thirteen year old could do sitting alone in business class. Madison wasn't, in any measure, a brat or a wayward teen, but she had her moments too. She was every inch still a kid trying to grow up faster than he would like and tended to do certain things, especially when she was excited. And heaven knew she was liking the prospect of flying business class a little too much.

The girl gave her father a snarky look, turning her nose up before glancing somewhere else. The attendant worked on placating him but by then, something else had caught the teen's attention. Later, he would smack himself upside the head and remind himself that Madison being quiet was rarely ever a good thing.

By the large glass windows, she could already see the plane but if she glanced sideways, right at the area that was closed off, she saw a familiar blob of color behind the frosted walls. She smiled, her eyes widening a little before shooting a surreptitious glance at her father who was still trying to get them a seat next to each other. She rolled her eyes the way only girls her age could before standing quietly, holding on to her knapsack. It was too tempting and the smile on the girl's face was the perfect indication of just how tempted she was.

It only took about ten seconds before thirteen year old decided, slipping her bag up her shoulder and stuffed her beloved phone protectively into her jacket pocket. With barely a _whoosh_, she darted off, faster than her classic high cut black Chuck Taylors could take her.

Another fifty seconds and the thirteen year old was in, clearing through the glass doors and jumping right through into the other room.

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

"Just tell Will I'll—"

Their conversation was once again cut short when they heard various voices call out and Eli shot out of his seat. Diane had her back turned to the doors so by the time she could see for herself what was happening, her aide, personal assistant and security detail were obscuring her view of the doors already, obviously trying to keep someone away.

For a moment, her mind flashed to a scenario that had her heart thumping against her chest, but then she realized her _assistant_ was there and the security detail who'd manage to rush to her side did not have his gun drawn.

"Oh, hell, what now?" Eli grumbled as he glared at the group.

Not for the first time, Diane was thankful for having been blessed with being tall as well as making her a lover of high heels because peering through the small crowd, she spotted a familiar head of hair.

"Excuse me, Miss, you are _not_ allowed in this area," Justin Coyne was saying.

"But I just wanted to talk to the Senator because my dad—"

"I'm sorry, that's not-"

"Justin," Diane called, not quite raising her voice though putting it the pitch she knew her head of security would easily hear.

"Ma'am—"

"Is that Miss McVeigh?" she questioned, moving towards the group, only to be served a look from Coyne, shaking his head lightly and she had to fight rolling her eyes. "Oh, for the love of…Mr. Coyne, she's—I believe—thirteen. Apart from a Facebook and Twitter account, I don't think she'll be quite armed to shoot me."

"But I can shoot a twelve-gauge shotgun," the voice piped up although she was still being blocked.

Diane couldn't help but smile at that, wondering what could possibly explain a girl her age knowing what a twelve-gauge was let alone shooting it. But it didn't help Coyne who stood there with a frown creasing his handsome features. The man was too serious for his own good, she thought. Not that she blamed him, having a job like his.

"_Not _that I have one right now, I mean, those things are _hug_e," the girl went on, "And, you know, I only know how 'cause of, erm, skeet shooting."

Diane smothered the laugh that threatened to escape and instead said, "Let her through," in the Senator's voice she used when she needed it to be clear that she was leaving no room for protest and they all stepped aside, revealing the grinning teen who held a few papers to her chest.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Uh, I only skeet shoot, I promise," Madison explained then she grinned and smiled proudly, "I'm pretty good at it…I caught a double last time."

"Wow," was the only reaction the older woman could muster, trying to recall the size of a twelve-gauge and trying to match it with the graceful teen in front of her wearing a proud toothy grin.

"I don't shoot people or anything 'cause that would be bad," Madison went on, "My dad is a forensics expert, you know, like CSI? He helps people solve crimes and stuff. But his main thing is ballistics, guns, see?" Then her eyes widened, "But _he_ doesn't shoot people, I swear…I mean, grandpa says maybe he'll start someday, you know, when I start getting boyfriends or stuff like that, but boys are pretty stupid at my age so I'm not interested."

"Well, that's…good," she smiled, "Dads tend to react like that sometimes."

"Did your dad ever shoot a boy who liked you?"

The older woman chuckled, "Oh, my, no. My father wasn't too fond of guns. But that didn't stop him from scaring them with other things."

"Like?"

A pause, "Huh…actually, I'm not sure," she replied, as if only realizing it now, "By the time I come down, they're already terrified straight into silence."

"Oh, wow. That's almost scary, if you think about it. Very Godfather. You should ask sometime," Madison said, shrugging, "But you can only tell me. Not my dad. The guns are enough."

Diane chuckled, shaking her head slightly as she marveled at a thirteen year old girl referencing The Godfather as if it was the most natural thing to her. She was pretty sure Eli was already intending on getting every file he could on the father and daughter by now, "Can I help you, Miss McVeigh?"

"Ew," the girl wrinkled her nose, "That makes me sound _so_ old. I'm Madison. Madison Rose McVeigh, but the Rose part is a secret…wait, why did I tell you?"

Her self-induced bewilderment caused the older woman to smile, chuckling a little behind her hand just in case the girl took offense at being laughed at. Diane took the few steps towards the girl, trying not to tower over her with her height _and _her shoes even though she knew it was highly unlikely.

She stood in front of the girl, not quite acknowledging the others as they moved away though Justin and another agent stood by the doors imposingly. "Well, it can be _my _secret too," she said, lowering her head and said in a low voice to the girl, as if it really _was _a secret. "And maybe I can tell _you _mine so we can be even."

"You have two names too?" the girl asked, almost skeptical as she peered at the woman, suddenly feeling conscious of her favorite red jacket and jeans. This was _not_ how you meet famous people, she thought dejectedly, wondering why she hadn't dressed better for the flight home.

"Mhm," Diane hummed, "But like I said, it's a secret-"

"I promise I won't tell!" the girl said insistently.

"Well…"

"I won't Tweet or even Facebook it!" Madison said, bouncing a little. "I mean, I _swear_. I haven't even Tweeted to my best friend I've seen you. And she's like_ grown up_ smart, like, she watches CNN and stuff with her mom, you know? 'Cause her mom writes for the paper and everything. So she knows _you_, for sure!"

"Okay—" from behind Diane, Eli decided to step in at the mention of a possible link to a journalist but found himself being waved back.

"You promise?" the woman looked almost skeptical, "It's a secret, you know? Not even Wikipedia has it."

"Swear on my baby, I mean, my dog," the girl's fingerless gloved-hand shot up, "And he's, like, the most important thing in my life other than my dad. He's _so_ cute and perfect."

Diane smiled and said, "Okay, you've convinced me," then she bent down, tucking the girl's hair behind her ear then leaned close enough to whisper her second name.

The only indication that she had indeed been told was the comical way the girl's eyes widened, remaining so when the taller woman pulled back with an impish grin of her own. The girl's hands were curled together in front of her lips, as if physically trying to restrain herself from bursting as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

"Serious?" Madison asked, smiling happily.

"Serious," she nodded, "I'm not quite a fan, but it's there, so what can I do, right?"

"It's pretty cool!" Madison declared, "Better than Rose."

"I'll switch any day," Diane teased then looked past the doors, "Where's your father, Madison? Weren't you with him? Is there a problem?"

The excitement faded a little as the girl straightened up, "Yeah, about that—"

"Madison Rose McVeigh."

"Uh-oh," the girl muttered.

"Busted?" Diane asked, muttering to her as well.

Justin had obviously relaxed enough to let someone in and this time, it was the girl's father.

Madison deflated a little, "Yep."

Diane stopped the laugh that threatened to bubble up and turned towards the parent standing next to her head of security. It was only then she noticed he had the same shade of light blue eyes as his daughter though their hair color contrasted—his dark that was almost black hair with brushes of gray here and there worked favorably well for him while her dark blonde hair seemed even lighter under the lights. They shared the same lips although she couldn't tell for sure, considering that the man looked furious with his jaw set and his mouth stiff. She didn't know why but somehow, she imagined his smile would be nice.

"Dad, I was just—"

"You do _not_ wander off," the father said, his voice clearly stating he was not at all amused by his offspring's stunt. "And while we're at it, you _do not_ go on barging into places."

Diane glanced at the girl, noticing that she had moved from standing in front of her to beside her and had to force herself not to speak up. She knew well enough than to interfere with parents when disciplining their children, no matter whether or not she was included in the _why_. She knew it was essential that parents not be undermined in front of their children, especially in crucial moments like discipline.

"But I just wanted to—"

"Mads," he man sighed, as if suddenly running out of steam, "You made me _worry_."

"I'm sorry," the girl said, her voice lower and Diane felt her smaller hand curl around hers and she was glad she hid her surprise and stopped herself from stiffening. It seemed as if it was the most normal gesture between her and the girl despite the fact they'd only met barely ten minutes prior.

"It's okay," her father said then finally allowed his attention to fall on the woman next to his daughter. He tried not to wonder just what it was that had Madison reaching towards the woman like that. It wasn't just because she'd seen her on TV, he knew just by the way she'd sought out her hand. It was almost familiar, natural in a way that had him suddenly feeling a lump on his throat. "I'm sorry, Senator, my—"

"It's alright," Diane smiled, "She just wanted to speak to me although she hasn't had the chance to say why."

Perking up at being let off the hook—if she wasn't, her dad would have dragged her back to her seat already where he could properly chastise her-and spoke up, "It's about the seat you got!"

"Got?" Diane tried to appear confused even though she knew exactly what the girl was talking about.

"Yeah, the one in business class?" the girl bounced again, "You know _I_ have never flown business? Dad has, for work, but I don't get to come because his work—"

"Mads…"

The girl barely took a breath, "Anyway, dad's all antsy about the whole part where we can't sit together and since he's being _so_ uncool, I just wanted to know if there was a way we could sit together? Doesn't have to be business class and all, really. I'll live. Dad's just being paranoid and it would be nice to needle him but I've had the _best_ week and I don't wanna ruin it for us…so, erm, actually, that's it."

"Madison," Diane said gently, smiling at the girl, "I tried, believe me, but the airline was already booked and…well, I can try and get your dad in business, but-"

"No, it's fine," Kurt shook his head, "Mads just likes to…exaggerate."

"What? Dad!" the teen obviously took offense at being made to look bad.

"Hey, Madison?"

"You can call me Mads or Mad," the girl grinned, "I like both. I get mad a lot…crazy or pissed-"

"_Madison Rose_, language!"

The girl met the older woman's eyes and rolled her own, further amusing her, "Either way, I get _mad_ a lot. Works for me."

"Alright, _Mads_," Diane tried out the name and found she liked it too, "Why don't you chat with Mr. Gold for a bit? I'm going to try and talk to you dad…see if we can sort this out?"

"But—"

"We'll be right here," she said soothingly although the way her eyes met Coyne's, who was still very much there in the background, "We won't be long."

"Hey Mad," Eli said, appearing next to the girl then, "The Senator actually has a Twitter account, why don't you try and see if we can follow each other, hm?"

Madison looked at the woman next to her, "For real?"

Diane chuckled, shaking her head a little, "I'm trying to get the hang of it and so far I haven't Tweeted any state secrets so it's a work in progress."

"That is _so_ cool…" the girl said, happily following Eli and Diane pretended not to notice how easily her hand slipped from hers and how it made her miss the warmth she hadn't even realized was there almost immediately.

Once the girl was well out of earshot, plopping next to Eli Gold with a tablet, Diane turned to her father.

"Your daughter," she smiled a little.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded, "Thirteen and…a whirlwind."

"I can see that," she grinned, "I'm sorry…we haven't been properly introduced—"

Kurt nodded, "I know who you are…I'm Kurt McVeigh."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. McVeigh," she said and they shook hands and steadfastly, she ignored the thought that his hands were warmer than his daughter's though softer than she imagined. "I understand…about the seats. I apologize. I believe we were the, erm, party that led to the complications, most likely caused the overbooking."

"I guessed as much," the man said simply and she almost laughed at that, more out of surprise than anything. If it had been others, they would have brushed it off and laid blame somewhere else. His different approach was most refreshing. She liked the streak of honesty.

"Well, I apologize," she said, glancing behind her to catch Madison with Eli, "She seems to be a good girl…and the ticket's been paid for and she obviously wants to go home. So do you."

"Paid for?" he frowned a little, "Yeah, about that…sure that was a smart way of using taxpayer's money?"

Diane bit the inside of her cheek, "It's not taxpayer money, I assure you."

"_You_ paid?" he asked, surprise evident in his features.

She waved a dismissive hand, "You'll not be too far and—"

"Excuse me, Senator, I get it, but," he paused, shaking his head a little and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand consciously, "She's my daughter. I hope you understand."

"I know, I do," Diane nodded, pausing then thought for a moment before looking at him again, "But…how about a compromise?"

"How?"

She motioned towards her aide who was standing not too far away, "I can arrange for Madison to be seated next to me. Mr. Coyne, my head of security, will be onboard with us. She will be looked after just as I will be by him and his team."

Kurt thought for a moment, weighing his options.

"DC is about to get more snow," Diane said, softly as her eyes drifted towards the windows where the skies were quite gray and drab. "And even though Madison seems exuberant now, I notice she's quite pale…I'm not sure if that's normal with her, but with the weather? I think getting home would be better…for both of you. It's going to be colder in Chicago as well, but at least she'll be home where she can be comfortable and get bundled up, surrounded by the things she loves, where she's most comfortable."

His head shot up at the mention of his daughter. Kurt _had _noticed the way his daughter's skin seemed paler than usual but he hadn't expected a stranger would. Add the way Madison's mood seemed to swing more than usual, he couldn't deny he'd entertained the idea that she was catching something. The fact that the Senator had noticed, he didn't quite know how to take that exactly.

"I'm sure she misses her bedroom," the woman added after a brief pause, smiling.

He quirked his eyebrows, wondering whether he was more amused or, dare he say, _touched_ that she was turning out to be less than a phony (or a real damned good actress) than he could ever imagine a politician ever being. Not that he's even come this up close and personal with many. Of course he knew Madison missed her room, but he was curious as to how a complete stranger seemed to be so attuned to his child in a way that he sometimes forgot to know how to.

"Mhm," Diane nodded, "Let's just say I know a thing or two about missing the comforts of home."

Their eyes met again and this time, it was the formidable woman who looked away first, a curious twitch in the corner of her lips catching his attention before he found himself nodding, "Okay."

"You'll be taking the ticket then?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Mads tends to get _mad_ when she's made to sit still for five hours straight. And you're right…she wants to go home."

"Good," Diane smiled, "I'll have my aide confirm with the personnel, in the meantime, it's almost time for boarding. I'm sure you need to get your things ready."

Kurt nodded, unable to think of anything else to say, "Thank you, Senator Lockhart."

A curious hue of pink rose to her cheeks but she turned away, looking back at Madison who had begun to laugh at something as she sat next to Eli. He wondered if he had imagined it.

"It's Diane, Mr. McVeigh."

"And its Kurt then, Sen-_Diane_."

Eyes meeting again, the Senator and the Forensics Expert shared a smile.

And he almost spoke, trying to find something more to say until an familiar excited squeal burst forth not too far away and his daughter's voice broke through the silence that had descended upon them both.

"Hey, Dad, you'll _never_ believe what Mr. Gold just told me!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Fluing Around**

Eli Gold was trying to burn a whole through the back of her head.

But she didn't care.

Her aide was hovering a seat behind Eli, papers in hand and her BlackBerry on the ready with what she was sure was a message from Will Gardner _again_.

She ignored her too.

Her head of security, the ever serious on the job Mr. Justin Coyne who was actually quite amusing when he allowed himself to be, was hovering with his two cronies somewhere, she was sure. She ignored them too, the thugs. They meant well and she was usually cooperative with them and had a rapport that she truly worked hard on building—those men were so _serious_ and committed to their job and their damned rule book, trying to prove them _human_ was like pulling teeth with her bare hands.

On normal days, she would be nicer to them, be more cooperative with Coyne, but not today. Not when he was being _such_ a reticent ghoul about letting the McVeigh girl sit next to her. She was a _teenager_, for crying out loud, a teenager whose father was no more than fifty feet away.

And she was willing to bet a year's salary that her detail had the father _and_ the girl checked out before they started boarding the flight. That included background checks _and_ as well as a slew of other more personal details that she could pin down more on Eli than Coyne and his insistence on checking out every possible threat that may come her way. Technology was impressive these days and that was enough to make her feel just a little bit exasperated at the men around her. It was never enough.

Coyne and his eternal vigilance that bordered on maddening paranoia—he was getting a _really_ nice Christmas gift this year as well as his beloved mother, something _she_ had picked although at the moment she wanted to _throw _it at him instead. She was never even particularly violent. The men around her just _made_ her that way.

Eli and his obvious, undeniable, trademark paranoia—checking every single person she was going to come in contact with, making sure she didn't get caught in photos or film with someone who was _not_ squeaky clean or potentially damage her reputation. That was okay, she expected that, even appreciate it some days, but a _thirteen year old_? She hoped Marissa Gold had something impressive to drive her father spinning for the holidays, if only to live vicariously through the clever girl.

Diane Lockhart was _not_ naïve about what criminals, terrorists or psychopaths were capable of using, including children, to inflict whatever damage they wanted to cause, but this constricting reaction such a brief anomaly to her life was enough to make her want to throttle him with his damned iPad and wring Coyne's neck with his ever present tie.

Madison McVeigh, as far as she was concerned, was a typical young American teenager who was coming home from a visit with her grandparents in Washington, DC. She loved music and would prefer not to live without her iPod but her new favorite was her iPhone at the moment, an early Christmas gift from her grandparents. She had a good circle of friends with a father who was still trying to keep her from growing up too fast and Diane also knew she was a sweet girl because despite the eye rolling and muttering, she could see that she was also trying to accommodate that parental need. Like most kids her age, of course she tried to hide it, but it shown through. She was, in every sense, her Daddy's girl.

And that was one of the reasons why Diane didn't broach the topic of her mother. So far, Madison had not mentioned her mother or anything related to the topic and she sensed there was a story in that so she let it rest and stayed away from it. She wasn't one to pry and she wasn't about to force it out of anyone.

Currently, just as the plane was settling at the right altitude, Madison was telling her about her father's work. Diane didn't mind. The closest she ever got to forensics were through random books and whenever her television was not on CNN, which it usually was. And the occasional criminal cases she came across though that had been before, she was sure forensics had improved immensely since the last time she was personally in touched with it.

"So dad works with a _lot_ of people," Madison said, grinning as she leaned forward a little to speak to Diane. She had been given the window seat, which she loved, but had ignored and opted for conversation instead. "And I've met a few of them even if he tries to keep them away from me...he hates it when I see his work."

"Oh, how so?" Diane asked. She was quite amused with the openness of the girl; she actually loved listening to her chatter away, being she was quite the storyteller and had that dry sense of humor _without _a hint of obnoxiousness that Diane didn't encounter very often in her age group. To Diane, there were times the girl seemed older than her years.

"Well, he mostly works on shootings and stuff," she shrugged, absently pushing her dark blonde hair behind her ear, "And it gets pretty gory…I don't mind. He's pretty awesome at it, measuring trajectory and stuff, you know? Where the bullet went and how far…messy, but he kicks butt."

"I bet he does," Diane grinned, silently thanking whatever god was responsible for putting this girl in her way. She was used to flying and usually, she would be tending to those papers her aide was currently holding on to, but listening to Madison was relaxing and fun. She needed it.

"He's really good at it," Madison went on, grinning proudly, "He's got this friend from the FBI and they've known each other _forever_…he goes to dad sometimes and he keeps trying to get Dad into the FBI, but he doesn't want to so he annoys him instead he makes fun of them and calls them the 'Federal Bunch of Idiots'."

Diane had suppress the guffaw that almost came out, biting her bottom lip as she began to laugh, her shoulders shaking as she and the girl giggled along. A row behind, Eli's head shot up at the sound and her aide shared a look with Coyne not too far away. The girl knew something they didn't and that was how to make Diane Lockhart react like that. As far as they knew, their usually composed Senator, _did not_ giggle like that or grow pink with laughter.

There was no way Diane was going to forget that, especially considering she had just met with the Director of the FBI two weeks prior. Such a severe man and he'd made quite an impression on her. If the Edgar Hoover stories weren't enough, _this_ little tidbit from a teenager was going to be enough to tide her over such meetings again. She needed the amusement for those dull encounters.

"I keep telling him I'll be like him someday," Madison said, quieter though there was a glint in her eyes that Diane was fast becoming familiar with, "He'll probably have a heart attack if I get into police work, you know, be a cop or something like that? So the best option is to do what he does, forensics. Help put people away. I think I can do that. It won't be as dangerous so Dad won't be too worried."

Diane smiled, "You sound sure."

"I am," Madison nodded, "I wanna be like him and I'm already learning a lot watching Dad and reading books. And I'm not too shabby in the sciences and math. I'd like to go out and be a cop, yeah, that could be cool, but like I said…it'll drive my Dad _insane_."

"I didn't even know what I wanted to be when I was your age," Diane said, amused.

"Really?" Madison grinned, "You never expected that you'll be a Senator? Not even be the President's—" she stopped, catching the look in Diane's eyes and covered her mouth. "Oh! Off topic! Stopping! Stopping!"

The Senator chuckled, "No, never. I actually didn't want to, at first. From the start, I always wanted to be a lawyer and that was it. Law was fun for me."

"Dad would flip if I talked about becoming a lawyer," Madison made a face, "Dad doesn't like lawyers after spending so much time with them in his job…that, and politicians."

"That explains a lot," the older woman smiled.

"Well, maybe there's an exception," Madison grinned playfully, "But I'm not an idiot so I won't talk about that. Tell me what happened instead! How'd you end up doing what you didn't want to do?"

Ignoring the mention of exceptions with a graceful smile, Diane simply shrugged, a move Madame Theroux, her teacher in etiquette, would have smacked her for, as she considered Madison's question. "I don't know. I suppose it just happened."

The girl laughed a little, "How does ending up a Senator _just happen_? You've done a lot of awesome things, you know. You were the governor and now you're in the Senate...people are even making polls about President. Apart from the nutty ones, the only politicians my friends and I know are you and Hillary Clinton."

Diane wasn't sure why that made her cheeks turn a little warm. She wasn't alien to those chatters, but that's what they all really were—_chatters_. And Eli Gold. "I can't think of anything to say that won't make me sound like a typical grown up. You'll roll your yes."

"Thanks for the warning," Madison grinned, "But it's pretty cool, you know…meeting a Senator." She stopped, her eyes growing wide, "Oh, my god. I met a Senator. I'm on a plane with a Senator. _A_ Senator. I'm talking to a Senator. A _real_ Senator."

Diane laughed and this time, she didn't try to suppress it. Madison had said it in a way as if she'd only realized the facts, as if she it was only then hitting her that she was, indeed, sitting in a plane with a Senator. On others, it would have seemed rehearsed and overplayed, but with her, it was more endearing and hilarious.

"Dude, if I _was_ a geek and six years old, I would so bring you to show and tell," Madison said, grinning and bumping her knuckles together. "Have I asked you for an autograph?"

"No," Diane laughed.

"Good! If I do, don't give it to me," the blonde shook her head, wrinkling her nose, "That would _so_ be on the deep end of _blech_ and I need to protect my sanity and reputation. I'm just geeking out now because I can and no one can see me. But if you sign something, _man_, I just know I wouldn't be able to help myself!"

"Okay," the woman said with another laugh just as a flight attendant stopped next to them, asking if they wanted anything. "Mad?"

"That is so cool," the girl said happily, "You called me Mad. That's awesome." She looked at the attendant, "Dad'll flip if I drink anything with sugar," she made a 'humph-ing' noise and asked for water instead, earning a smile from both the attendant and her companion.

"How about something to eat?" Diane asked, pleasantly amused at the girl's admirable self-discipline.

She made a face, "No, thank you…I'm not hungry."

"Alright…do you suppose your Dad would like something?" Diane asked, sipping the tea she'd been served.

Madison smiled, "Dad? Hm…alcohol? Dad likes to pretend he doesn't drink," she smiled, "But he drinks whiskey. He doesn't do it while I'm around." She frowned, "Wait. That sounds bad. Dad doesn't drink, you know, a lot, but I know he does _sometimes_ or when he's out with Uncle Tony. And he probably doesn't know I know so sending him one will clue him in…"

Diane grinned, "Sneaky. So, what _do_ we send him?"

"I get to stay out of trouble then, not that I think I'll get in trouble for _knowing_," Madison shrugged, "Coke, would be good. He drinks that stuff and won't touch anything else. I dunno. He stays off Pepsi and others. I'm the same. Pepsi sucks, no offense to the late great Joan Crawford, of course."

"_How_ do you even know who Joan Crawford is? Let alone what she has to do with Pepsi?" Diane asked, surprised.

"I watch TCM and I like some old movies," Madison shrugged, "And everyone knows _Mommy Dearest_ but mostly, I like reading about her endless feud with Bette Davis…if those two were alive today, they'd make one awesome reality show."

Diane chuckled, "I actually agree with that one."

"Dad says I've got a confused soul," Madison said, tilting her head a little, "Some people think I've got an old soul, but Dad's pretty sure I've got a confused one. He said it's because while I love things from the past and know better than kids my age, I'm also a little nutty around the edges and still capable of doing typical kid things. So I vary, he said, with being an old soul and a fresh wild one."

"Your _Dad_ said that to you?" Diane asked, surprised.

"We're pretty honest," Madison said simply, "I'm a confused soul. I like that. I've met other kids who've got old souls. I'm pretty different, or at least, the upped version of them. So I'm very happy about that."

"You're not big on fitting in, are you?"

Madison shook her head, "Takes too much effort, don't you think? Why bother trying to fold yourself into the puzzle when you can just blow out a hole for yourself? You get to decide the space, shape, dimension or whatever you want and give yourself the space you need. And I do so hate being cramped."

Diane stared at the girl for a moment, tea sitting on her knee for a moment before smiling at her, "Madison Rose McVeigh…"

"Cripes, I'm in trouble already?" the girl's face fell a little.

"No," the older blonde shook her head, "Quite the opposite. I _really_ like you."

"Oh, cool! Because I really like you too," the girl grinned happily then sat back, taking a sip of her water and glanced at the window next to her before jumping forward, almost jostling Diane into spilling her drink.

"What is it?" Diane tried to look past her at the window.

"Nothing!" Madison said, turning towards her again with another happy smile. "It's just..."

"Just…?"

"A Senator likes me!"

Diane's laughter flowed through the cabin melodiously and elicited smiles from her people as well. So Eli Gold stopped trying to burn a whole through the back of her head and decided that maybe the girl wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"I am in _so _full on geek out mode!"

The Senator needed a laugh.

And so, she did.

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

It wasn't too bad, thankfully.

He'd been seated next to a kid who, surprisingly, was quiet. Age between nine or ten, the little boy with the big glasses sat next to him, reading _Artemis Fowl_ while nibbling on a sandwich. It was refreshing, not to have children yelling around or jumping next to him in planes. It was especially bad during the holidays, for some reason, so he was thankful for this reprieve.

In their flight to Washington, DC, he had spent it talking to Madison about her grandparents and what she was looking forward to. Her chatter had drowned out the sound of a baby crying and as well as a toddler babbling incessantly. He had somewhat dreaded being seated without his daughter to distract him.

And that of course, led him back to thinking about his daughter _and_ Diane Lockhart.

He couldn't truly imagine it, really. Madison was lively, full of chatter and exuberant for the most part. Given the chance, he was pretty sure she could run a full day talking about anything and everything, like some energizer rabbit that never ran out of juice. She was his light, his sunshine and he adored her.

The Senator she was seated with, on the other hand, had quite the reputation for being somewhat reserved. Diane Lockhart was by no means cold or distant, but from what Kurt knew, she was also one of those politicians who valued her privacy and was lucky enough to still have people respect it. She was engaging and commanding whenever she was on the news, when she was out in public, but he'd also read the write-ups about her, journalists describing how the woman, when not in front of the camera, was someone who liked solitude.

Kurt imagined the woman enjoyed flying in silence, or at least, not quire surrounded by the chatters of an energetic thirteen-year-old. He tried to imagine it, wondered how they were getting along. He wasn't too worried about Madison—she had that way about her of _infecting_ people with her disposition. He was wondering more about _how_ the politician was reacting to it.

He almost grinned.

"Mr. McVeigh?" he looked up, catching a flight attendant holding a drink with a smile. When he acknowledged her presence and gave her a polite questioning look, she set the drink in front of him, "Compliments of…your daughter."

"Oh, thank you," he said, surprised and grinned when he saw what the drink was.

"And a message," she handed him a piece of paper and walked away.

Quirking an eyebrow, he unfolded the neat white piece of paper and almost laughed as he read, almost hearing the accusations playfully playing out in his ear from his daughter. Yes, she was something.

_Business class is WAY more fun than you let on, cheater! You've been holding out on me, Father Dearest. This merits some sort of inquiry once we get home…Oh, and the Senator is AWE- SOME._

He took out a pen and wrote something underneath the chicken scratch his daughter had the gall to pass off as her handwriting then folded it up. Glancing down the aisle and holding on to the glass of Coke, he stood up, making his way to the other side of the plane where an imposing man stood by the passage that separated them from the area where his daughter was so obviously enjoying.

Giving the man a neutral look he waved the paper pristine white paper with the logo of the airline was printed at the very top, "Would you mind? For my daughter?"

The man had only the slightest hesitation before nodding and took the paper from him with a nod. Kurt gave him a nod in thanks and went back to his seat, catching the boy next to him staring.

"Hi," he said as kindly as he could and sat back down.

"Hello," the boy said simply, glancing at the aisle before giving him a somber look, "I got detention for note passing once."

Kurt didn't even stop himself from grinning, "Me too. But I got away this time."

The kid grinned as well, "Cool."

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

Diane looked up from with a frown before glancing at her watch again.

Where was that girl? She wondered, partially worried though she tried to deny it. They were on a plane, what was there to worry about? They were more than secure.

But that didn't change the fact that it had been far too long since the girl had politely informed her that she had to go to the lavatory. That had been quite a while ago and Diane found herself wondering what was keeping the girl.

She glanced at Coyne who didn't look bothered and simply nodded at him as she stood up. If he followed her, she might throttle him on sheer annoyance at all. Thankfully, they'd been around each other long enough for him to know when to keep his distance. She didn't even bother to acknowledge Eli, whose stare she could feel once again on her as she followed to where Madison had headed off too.

"May I help you, Senator?"

Diane smiled at the attendant who met her halfway down the aisle, "Yes, I was wondering if you'd seen the girl I was sitting with? A thirteen year old girl?"

"Oh, yes," the woman nodded, motioning with her hand towards the stalls in the back, "I saw her go in, but I don't think I caught her going out."

Diane nodded, "Thank you…I'll just go check on her."

She didn't bother questioning why the tall brunette stewardess followed her as she headed towards the stalls. Diane glanced behind her when she reached the first door and found she didn't have to voice out her question when the woman simply nodded. She knocked, gently and called out, "Mad? Are you in there?"

A beat and Diane found herself knocking again, a little louder this time and not bothering to deny she was a little worried now, "Madison?"

She was almost ready if the woman behind her had a key when she heard the faint click come from the door. Diane didn't wait and said simply, "I'm going in, alright?" before pushing the door open.

—only to find the girl on the floor, her head in her hands and her long blonde hair falling all over her shoulders and that was enough to propel Diane into stepping carefully in the compact space without crowding her and knelt down beside the girl, saying her name once again as she reached for her head.

Diane didn't miss the way the girl's skin seemed to burn under her touch while she tilted her face towards her, finding the girl's cheeks had gone quite red. The girl blinked at her, practically bleary eyed, and said in a slight croak, "I think I might be sick…"

"So it seems," the older woman said, her voice taking on a softer tone, "How…did you get sick in here?"

"No," Madison said and the Senator was practically holding her head up as she slumped against the wall of the cubicle, "I thought I was going to but—"

"Senator, what's—"

Madison had stopped speaking and had jerked forward just as Eli joined them, their voices mingling and cutting off at the same time when the girl lurched, her hand rushing to her mouth. With the tight space and Diane sitting so close, Madison collided against her as she leapt for the toilet and missed, heaving her stomach's contents onto the floor _and_ as well as on the woman's dress and legs.

"Oh, dear god!" Eli exclaimed though managed not to be too loud while the attendant next to him gasped loudly.

"Get me a blanket, please," was the only thing Diane said to nobody in particular as she leaned forward and out of the way of the girl as she guided her towards the toilet, holding her hair back. If she was bothered by the mess that had become of her, it didn't show as she leaned over the girl, one hand curled around her hair while the other began to rhythmically rub her back as she threw up once more.

"Oh, gross," Madison grumbled when she pushed off the toilet, scrunching her face with a wince then groaned, "I threw up on you, didn't I?"

"It's alright," Diane said quietly, placing her hand on the girl's cheek with a slight frown, allowing only that expression when she was sure the girl's eyes were still closed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, "That's…disgusting."

"It'll wash off."

"I'm sorry," the girl almost seemed as if she was whimpering.

"It's fine, Mad," Diane shook her head a little. "Are you feeling okay now or…?"

"I want my dad," the girl said softly, opening her eyes and the tears—from the retching or the desire to cry, Diane wasn't sure—were unmistakable.

She looked over her shoulder, catching Eli and gave him a small nod and he was gone, the silent communication clear enough. He would get the father and make sure he could get him cleared through the area. If anything, Diane trusted him to understand the girl's desire to have her father with her.

"Do you feel like you're getting sick again?" Diane asked, "We're getting your father now."

"I'm okay now," she mumbled, "I feel like crap…"

"Don't say crap," Diane said, holding back a grin.

"Oh, god, you sound like my dad…"

Diane chuckled despite herself, "Yeah, well, roll your eyes at me later."

"Will do," the girl grumbled, "Leave it to Madison to get sick in Business Class _with _and _on _a Senator in the same day," she winced, "God, I _barfed_ on _you_. Ain't I somethin'?"

Diane could not help but smile. She liked the girl's dry humor and if she still managed to joke in the middle of getting sick, then she only hope that meant she wasn't feeling too bad.

"Senator?" Diane looked up, finding a couple of towels in the attendant's hand, "For your, erm, dress. I have the blanket you requested as well."

"Thank you," Diane said, reaching for the towel first and tried to wipe herself off as much as possible, mopping her legs and did as much as she could for her dress. Managing some decent damage control issues, she reached for the blanket she was handed and made sure it didn't touch the spot where some of spill had been and pulled the girl closer towards her and made sure she didn't get any of the mess on Madison. That was by pure luck, she decided, that Madison hadn't gotten sick on herself.

She draped the thick blanket on the girl's slender shoulders only to be surprised by the way Madison gravitated towards her, leaning her head on her shoulder without even opening her eyes and settled. Swallowing a little, Diane allowed her to stay there, reaching for another towel and wiped the girl's brow and pushed her hair back.

"You smell like flowers," the girl mumbled before slumping against her, almost upsetting her balance.

Diane smiled, "You're going to be okay, Mad."

Behind her, Diane felt someone standing just a little bit closer and looked up without jostling the girl, only to find Kurt McVeigh standing over them with his face full of worry. It was only then she realized she was sitting almost all the way out of the small stall, past the door and into the carpeted floors, a towel draped on her stained lap and _his_ daughter slumped against her shoulder.

Without a word, he knelt down behind her, reaching past her and felt his daughter's forehead, only to have her stirring at his touch, "Five more minutes," she mumbled lazily.

"She just got sick," Diane said quietly, almost afraid to rouse the girl as she spoke to him over her shoulder, feeling him close enough to detect the tension that seemed to just emit from him in waves. "She said she wanted to go to the bathroom and she just…I didn't know she was feeling so ill."

Kurt nodded, "Must be a bug."

"There's been one going around Washington," she said, uncharacteristically quiet again. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mc—"

"I threw up on her, dad," the girl suddenly mumbled, "I think that counts as passing _Go, _collect 200 and a first name basis qualification already."

"Sounds about right," Kurt muttered, "You alright, Mad?"

"Peachy," the mumble came.

"Can you go back to your seat or are you feeling sick again?"

"Just a little peaky," Madison mumbled, "But I can sit down…I feel lousy. Tired. Sleepy. My head hurts. A lot of places hurt…why?"

Diane shared a look with Kurt, "It sounds like it could be the flu…runny nose, Mad?"

"That too," Madison sighed, all the while keeping her eyes closed and leaning on the woman who had been a complete stranger only hours prior, "Are you psychic?"

Kurt shook his head and mumbled what sounded like 'smartass' under his breath before touching his daughter's cheek, "Why don't we get you back to your seat, Mad? So Diane can…clean up and we can get you buckled in."

Diane nodded slightly, "You can sleep the rest of the flight."

"Sounds nice," the girl nodded then began to move, prompting Diane to move with her.

Carefully, both of them stood up, Madison slower than Diane who made sure she didn't jostle the girl too much. She held on to the older woman, leaning back only slightly to adjust staying on the taller woman's shoulder to resting beneath her chin as she slumped against her.

Holding on to the girl, Diane felt Kurt's hand on her as he moved with them, keeping a guiding respectful hand on her lower back the whole way through. She leaned against the wall behind her, Madison seemingly attached to her, and shared a look with him. If he was bothered that his daughter seemed to be gravitating towards a stranger, she couldn't see it so she didn't feel too odd about deciding for them in a low voice, "Why don't we go back to our seat, Mad? You can rest there."

"Mmkay," was all the girl said.

Moving from out of the alcove nearest to the lavatories, the same attendant met them with a small smile, gesturing towards the vacated seats, "You can occupy these seats, Senator. The passengers have cleared the area for easier access for your daughter."

Diane barely noticed the mistake in that particular claim and instead, gave the woman a grateful smile before letting Madison take the nearest seat, the one in the aisle. Not too far away, the passengers who had generously offered their seats kept a respectful distance away and granted them their privacy.

"Senator?" Eli stood there, silent until then with an aide behind him carrying a change of clothes.

Diane nodded and she didn't even think when she knelt down again, next to the girl's seat and said softly, "I'll be right back, alright, Mad? Your dad will be right here."

"Okay," the girl barely nodded as she sat back in the seat, tucked into a blanket and curled up a little.

Diane stood up and turned, catching Kurt again as he moved to take her place. She didn't miss the way his eyes had softened. It was barely a glance between them as he moved to be with his daughter, replacing her kneeling in the aisle but she didn't miss the way his eyes looked. Giving that barely a thought with her only intention being getting right back to the ailing girl, she moved towards the lavatory again, her aide trailing after her while Eli stood a few paces back, watching like a hawk as he was prone to do.

Left behind with his daughter—as much as he could be left behind with another aide of the Senator's standing not too far as well as Eli _and_ a member of her detail—he placed a warm comforting hand on Madison's cheek and tried to ignore just how worried the woman, a stranger, had been about his 'd seen it in her eyes, how worried she was for a girl she'd only met. A part of him liked that while at the same time felt a touch of confusion. He decided not to dwell on that, considering there were more pressing matters.

Putting Madison in the forefront of their minds, the two individuals found it easier ignore those fleeting thoughts about each other, finding it easier to care for the young girl than entertain what they both considered was really quite _nothing_ between two relative strangers.

Because that's what they really were at the moment—_strangers_. They were realistic enough to accept and remember that after this plane ride, they would go about their separate ways. It would be an encounter to remember, at least, for him and Madison but Kurt would also like to think, though he would deny it, that somehow, it would be nice if Diane Lockhart didn't immediately forget about them that easily. She was a lot more than he could have ever expected her to be.

That's what was funny about life, sometimes people come in and out of it for a second only to leave an effect that would last a lifetime.

And though he wouldn't say it, Kurt McVeigh already knew that's what had already happened with Diane Lockhart walking into their lives.

* * *

-o0o-

* * *

She was never a fan of airplane comfort rooms.

But she was glad for them at the moment, seeing as it was her reprieve from what had unfortunately transpired in the stall next to the one she was occupying. Diane could not remember the last time she'd had to hastily clean up in such a small space with barely enough luxury and comfort.

She mopped herself off and changed, washing off her legs and the parts of her thighs where the vomit had seeped through her dress. She'd been too anxious to be amused by the fact that her aide bagged her stained designer dress _and_ shoes as Diane dressed quickly as she could in a black cashmere dress and another pair of designer shoes.

A pair of flats would have been better for such a situation, but she knew that had been inescapable and made do since her aides carried outfits for her sometimes when her luggage would be too far away and she knew they packed the heels and dresses just in case she was scheduled for some impromptu changing. She had flats, but they were tucked away into her luggage and that was okay, considering she could run a mile in her high heels and dresses.

Then realizing she was thinking about fashion while there was a young girl out there who was feeling quite ill, Diane mentally slapped herself for such inanity. What was wrong with her? She wondered. She usually had more sense. A part of her asked what _exactly_ she was doing in general, attaching herself to the girl the way she was doing when she was normally more objective than this. God, she was slipping.

Glancing at her reflection in the small mirror, Diane scowled at herself a little. She was being idiotic—that was_ not _a good sign. Another mental slap and she straightened her spine, breathing in and out once and calmed herself, reminding herself that she was doing something nice and admitted to herself that she really was quite delighted by the poor girl. She wished she hadn't gotten so sick so suddenly.

Deciding she was done, Diane tucked her hair firmly behind her ear before stepping out and if this had been a normal day, she would have worried if she'd been presentable but found she didn't care. In that moment, all she felt enough to care about was getting back to Madison as quickly as possible, berating herself already for her vanity and taking too long.

Kurt was still perched on the aisle, sitting next to his daughter with her hand curled around his on the armrest. She could barely contain the smile and then began to wonder if perhaps she should stay away now. Madison had her father, he would take care of her and was definitely more inclined to do a better job. Diane hated to think she would be intruding on that, considering she was a stranger to them.

Leaning down and touching him on the shoulder, she offered him a smile, "You should take that seat next to her…the floor can't be more comfortable than the seats."

"I'm fine," he said quietly, "You take the seat."

"Madison would like her father, I think," she said quietly.

"Sit," the girl mumbled, uncurling a little in her seat and lifted her feet to give Diane space to pass. She opened her eyes, red and watery then, and tried to smile, "Please?"

Kurt shook his head then nodded at Diane, "Won't say more."

Diane managed a smile, ignoring the questioning look Eli was sending her way and moved to sit next to the girl. Without hesitation or invitation, Madison simply let her hand uncurl from her father's and moved the armrest that separated her and the woman.

She didn't leave anyone much time to say anything as she curled up, again, this time laying her head on Diane's lap and mumbled, "Punish my presumptuousness later."

"Yeah, after you pay for that dress you ralphed on," Kurt muttered, grinning a little as he teased her back.

"That too," the girl mumbled before letting out a soft sigh and began to breathe deeply.

After a few moments, Kurt looked up to see Diane staring at him. Adjusting himself and taking a seat on the floor, he gave her an inquiring look, "Yes, Senator?"

Diane smiled, "Do you talk to each other like that often?"

"All the time," he shrugged, "She likes to talk."

"She's a remarkable girl," she smiled, "Funny girl."

"Yeah, she is. Smartass too," he nodded, "About the dress…"

She shook her head, "It's not a problem, believe me."

He stared at her before nodding slowly, "Thank you for…taking care of her. And I apologize if I was…uh, short with you. At the airport."

Diane chuckled, absentmindedly running her hand over Madison's head soothingly as she sat back and stared at the ceiling, "I should apologize too, for starting the whole thing…but I won't."

"Yeah?" he smirked.

"Mhm," she nodded, glancing at the sleeping girl with a smile before looking at him again, "It enabled me to meet Madison."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, only to have Madison jerk again, bolting up from her position with a wince and covered her mouth with her hand. As if out of nowhere, the attendant was back again, handing Diane a sick bag and she promptly placed it out for Madison who immediately ducked into it.

She heaved, her eyes burning with unbidden tears as her stomach tried to expel what was no longer there. She had only eaten lunch and that had been hours ago and she had vomited her fair share already in the lavatory. She continued to dry heave, feeling someone, most likely her father as Diane was currently occupied trying to help her, into the empty bag. She spat out nothing but saliva and mucus, groaning miserably before falling against her seat tiredly.

Diane turned towards the attendant, composing herself enough to hide the worry and silent panic she was feeling just underneath the surface. "We need to get her off the plane—soon."

"We're already beginning the descent," the attendant informed her dutifully, "It won't be long if we don't encounter any issues upon entering…should be about twenty or fifteen minutes."

"Dad, I—" Madison began to speak, only to stop and began to cough harshly, covering her mouth as her body began to convulse. Kurt rose, rubbing her back in circular motions as he waited for her to ride out her coughing fit. She turned towards her father, eyes glistening with her flushed face, "Dad, this _sucks_."

"I know, I know," he told her, pressing a kiss on her head when it was over, "We're getting you to a doctor when we get home, alright? We'll fix it."

His eyes met Diane's and they shared another look before she nodded, turning towards Eli who was once again there, on guard as always, "I want her in a hospital the moment we get back…call James. Closest hospital is Mercy, right?"

Eli nodded.

"Who do we know there?"

"Uh, I think Congressman Danforth's wife works there," Eli offered.

"Danforth," Diane nodded, "Liz Danforth recently transferred from Mercy, right?"

Eli nodded, recognizing the name as one of Diane's friends, "Yes. Elizabeth Danforth is the Chief right now—I can call ahead and—"

She nodded, "Do that and tell James…" she glanced at Madison who was clinging to her father's hand, curling up and leaning towards the side of her seat where he was. "Get him the clearance he needs through security, get Justin to do that if that helps—I want him on the tarmac, as close as possible. We leave the moment we arrive."

"Of course," Eli said and went off into another direction before coming right back, "Justin is already taking care of getting James in. We should have no problems—they're aware you were on this flight."

Diane nodded, "And Eli," she glanced towards the back of the area, catching sight of the people in the back, "The people who gave up their seats for us…?"

He nodded, "I'm having the flight manifesto sent up to Annie already. She'll take care of it. Fruit baskets for the holidays?"

"Perfect," Diane smiled, trusting those people will get them. She was glad to have an efficient team for a staff. She turned to Kurt, "Madison's bag will be taken care of; it's in the overhead and has her phone and her things. Do you have anything you need to retrieve from your seat?"

He shook his head, "No. I've got everything checked in."

Diane nodded, "Alright, good. We're heading to Mercy Grace. They're going to take care of Madison. She's going to be in good hands."

"You didn't have to do this," he said, grateful and a little awed after seeing her tackle so many things at the same time, taking note of anything and everything that was needed without even dropping a single ball. How she kept track of everything, he wasn't sure, but it was quite something to witness her in action.

"I know," Diane nodded, "I wanted to…I'm not a very good sick person myself and while hospitals aren't the most cheerful places…well, they help when they can. Render unto Caesar and such."

"Sir, Ma'am?" the attendant was back and both of them looked up, "We're landing in ten minutes."

They worked together in fastening Madison's seat belt with Diane once again letting Madison lean against her and kept her upright. Across the aisle, Kurt sat, watching his daughter and the Senator closely when he felt the landing gear of the plane begin to disengage.

He didn't fail to notice the way Madison was clinging to Diane.

Or the way the Senator seemed so natural, holding his daughter close as if she'd been doing it all their lives.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Baby, it's Cold Outside**

It was always the waiting that bothered most people.

The anxiety, watching strangers passing by, the way time suddenly seemed to slow. Not to mention the uncomfortable chairs. The waiting was always something that made people dislike hospitals even more apart from the medical reasons for being there. It was stress, the gnawing kind that ate at anyone and everyone from the inside out, laced with the crippling fear and stunning hope.

And it didn't matter if it was a cold, a heart attack or a gunshot that brought a loved one in there. Hospitals just had that way of doing things to people so very few other places could.

It was no different for someone like Diane Lockhart.

She hated the waiting, hated how not even the most important connections could get her what she wanted faster. Sure she had someone inside, having had Dr. Elizabeth Danforth waiting right at the entrance of the Emergency dock with her team had been incredibly helpful but they still needed time. She wasn't one to abuse whatever privilege she had but there was something about hospitals that made her dare overlook that principle if only out of sheer desperation. She wasn't a fan of hospitals, but then, who was?

Madison had been fine on the ride, apart from complaining about being sick and not wanting to move. She was sensitive to light, flinched when the voices got too loud and clung to her father. It was most likely just a vicious bout of the flu but Diane could not help but worry anyway. Madison had started out meeting her as such a bright girl, to watch her move rapidly from that to someone so sick made her feel just a little bit more vulnerable than she was used to. She was not the kind of woman who liked feeling that way.

Diane glanced up from her position on a rather uncomfortable chair, catching sight of Kurt McVeigh pacing lightly a few feet away. She almost smacked herself. Here she was thinking about what this was doing to her, a stranger, what more if she was in Kurt's shoes? A parent? She could not imagine what he could be thinking about, let alone his fears.

They'd been placed in the room they had pre-assigned for Madison and Diane was pretty sure that went along the lines of special treatment, but she was not about to argue. They were in a good hospital, with a _lot_ of room and if Elizabeth was so inclined to provide them their best facilities then Diane wasn't about to argue. This was for Madison, after all, and she was _not_ about to hold anything back for her.

It was almost astounding if Diane thought about it, the lengths she was willing to go for someone she'd just met. It was curious and it would have made her start nagging herself so she put it out of her mind. She was focusing on Madison, of what she could do to help. If there was reason to worry or even slap herself for doing what she was doing for her, she would deal with it later, once everything was over. For now, the bright young girl was the main focus.

Diane stood up, ready to speak to Kurt, to at least try and ease his mind if it was at all possible when a knock came to the door. She straightened, catching Kurt as he stopped mid-step and whirled around to face whoever was coming in.

"Come in," she said, glancing at him briefly before allowing entry.

She expected the doctor only to find it was her Senior Aide, Annie Clawson, holding a BlackBerry in one hand and an apologetic look on her face, "Senator, it's Mr. Gardner again…"

Diane could not help the muttered curse that escaped her lips, looking at her watch only to realize they'd been in the hospital longer than she had originally thought. She shook her head, running a hand over her hair and wrapped her arm over stomach, blinking slowly before finally telling Annie, "Send him my apologies and tell him something came up. I'll…well, reschedule and…just tell him I'm sorry."

Her aide nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you, Annie," Diane said with a tight smile and watched the door close before looking at her watch again. Time had certainly flown, she thought before shaking her head. She hoped Will Gardner would continue his exercise of patience with her. She knew him well enough to know he would have given up by now had she been anyone else.

"You don't…" behind her, Kurt began to speak and she faced him, catching the almost embarrassed look on his face as he spoke, his hand on one hip and the other on the back of his head. "You know, have to stay. I'll understand and Madison will—"

Diane shook her head, "It's fine. Actually, I would prefer to stay _here_…that is, if it's alright with you."

"I'm not that much of a bastard," Kurt smiled a little, "After what you did for Mads today—"

"It was nothing," she shrugged, "You would have gotten her here all the same. I just…had the perks to make things go a little faster, but you'd have gotten her here just fine without me."

"Still," he shrugged, "You didn't have to, but you did."

"And without using the taxpayer's money," she teased a little with a grin.

"That too," he smirked, "But really, Miss Lock—"

"Diane," she pointed out, "And I'm glad to help, actually…Madison is a special girl. You've done an amazing job with her."

He glanced at the empty bed in the middle of the room before nodding, "She's always been like that."

"Well, she had to have gotten it somewhere now, didn't she?" Diane smiled before motioning for him to take the seat next to the one she had been occupying. "Modesty can only go so far in things such as this, Kurt. Some things are too undeniable."

Kurt nodded as he took his seat after she did the same, folding herself gracefully into a more comfortable position, crossing one leg over the other. He looked at her, tilting his head to the side before saying, "Madison will be happy to see you again…to know you stayed."

"Good," Diane nodded, smiling as well, "I'd be happy to see her again too."

And she meant every word.

-o0o-

"Can I help you, sir?"

The man lumbered forward and simply grunted as he patted the shoulders of his coat clumsily, "Madison McVeigh."

The nurse at the counter smiled, "We're going to check if she's seeing visitors—"

She stopped when he pulled out his wallet, flashing a badge at her, "She'll see me."

"I'm sorry but we're going to have to check if—"

"Excuse me, is there a problem here?" a man in a suit stepped forward, eyeing the large man in a trench coat in a silent assessment.

"Yeah, I need to see the little munchkin," the man flashed his badge in Justin Coyne's face, "Chicago PD and I'm practically family. Wait. I _am_ family. I've babysat that kid and her friends more times than I wanna admit."

"Detective…" Justin looked closer, "Ah, yes, of course…Detective De Luca. Would you happen to be, er, Big Tony?"

"Yeah, you got the munchkin in there alright," the detective said with a shake of his head, "If she wasn't a girl, I'd whack her upside the head for calling me that. It's Tony, alright? _Not_ Big Tony."

Coyne nodded, "If you'll follow me?"

De Luca nodded at the nurse who gave him a small smile before falling in step with the man in a suit, "So he wasn't kidding…Secret Service?"

"Yes, sir," Coyne nodded.

"And you're really here with—" he stopped when the man simply gave him a look, "Well, I'll be damned. The bastard wasn't pulling my leg."

"No, he wasn't," the tall man simply said as they reached a door with yet another suit waiting just beside it. "This is Detective De Luca. A friend of the McVeighs."

And that was all they needed before De Luca found the door to his goddaughter's room being opened. He could hear her laughing, though it sounded a little different than usual, hoarse maybe and that was enough to confirm that she had, indeed, fallen ill. He just wondered if she really threw up on a Senator on the plane.

The room was large, most likely one of the suites in the hospital and he hoped as hell his friend's insurance would cover it. The hospital was the closest to the airport, but a hospital was a hospital to De Luca. Still, the place _was_ nice and in the same pastel blue that Madison liked.

De Luca walked in alone, having left behind the agents outside and found his friend standing just by the foot of the bed, his back to him and patting his daughter's foot, from the way it looked. He caught a glimpse of Madison, catching her sitting up in bed and dressed in a hospital gown. Her nose was red and her cheeks flushed, but her hair was in a loose braid and rested on her left shoulder.

Her attention wasn't on her father though, rather it was on someone most likely sitting against the wall he would need to move further more into the room to see. But he wasn't an idiot though, since he could guess just who was there. Not that he cared, at least, not really.

"Leave my sight for _two _minutes and you pull something like this," De Luca said with a smirk as he moved towards the bed, patting Kurt's back with a thump and eyed the girl on the bed.

"BIG TONY!"

"Yeah, Munch," he snorted as he moved around the bed, taking the other unoccupied side and ruffled the girl's head affectionately, "Heard from your old man 'bout that stunt you pulled on the plane. Very classy."

"Shut up," Madison huffed, "I was sick. I _am_ sick," she waved her wrist at him, sporting a hospital ID bracelet, "See this thing here, you big lug? Says I'm legit."

"Yeah, the color purple," he muttered, "Ain't that the color they use for the mental ward 'round here."

"Really?" Madison's eyes lit up, sassy even while sporting an impressive fever. "So I'm guessing you've got about five of 'em already, old dog?"

"Six, actually, so I got you beat," De Luca chuckled, laughing with the girl a little before catching sight of the woman on the other side of the bed. "You got company. New friend, Rude?"

Madison beamed, turning towards the politician beside her who was obviously trying not to smile too much, "Yes! This is Diane Lockhart. Erm, the Senator. I know you voted for her."

"Did not," De Luca pretended to growl.

"Liar!" Madison grinned at her new friend, "He did and he said it wasn't just because you had a great pair of—" the rest her words were muffled by his large hand covering her running mouth.

"Hey, hey, come on," Kurt said, stepping in though he was obviously trying not to laugh, "Hands off, Tony. She's playing sick now."

"Kid doesn't know what self-preservation is," he muttered before releasing the girl who proceeded to cackle. His eyes went to the woman again, trying to appear less gruff than his initial appearance though he failed quite miserably at it, "Good evening, Senator Lockhart…nice to meet you."

"It's a pleasure," she smiled, reaching across the bed to shake hands with him and he wasn't surprised by the firm grip he received. "And it's Diane, please…I'm outside of work at the moment. Formalities are not important."

"See? Told you she was cool," Madison said proudly, beaming at her own assessment and missing how the woman seemed to shy away from that declaration as she sat back down after De Luca released her hand.

"Madison has told me quite a bit about you, sir," Diane smiled, "She's heard such interesting stories about the life of a Chicago Police Detective and was generous enough to share…I must say it was rather enlightening."

De Luca looked towards his old friend who merely shrugged as if to tell me he didn't know exactly what that meant either. So he found himself turning on the man's offspring, growling, "You. Didn't."

"The fountain," Madison said proudly, "Told her about that. It was funny!"

"It was a felony!"

"But you were kids!"

"A felony! And I wasn't even a cop then too!"

"Yeah, you were a thirteen-year-old punk with eggs," Madison fluttered her eyelashes at him, "But I told her some cop stories too. Like that time you got the Chief's dog—"

De Luca's eyes flashed towards the genial woman sitting in the corner, laughing silently into her hand before glaring at the patient on the bed, "Why you little—"

"Hey! Immunity!" Madison raised her wrist again, "I'm fragile."

"You haven't been fragile a day in your life, you little nightmare!" De Luca groused. "Blabbermouth."

Madison grinned toothily, "Felon." Then she jabbed her thumb in Diane's direction, "Senator. Ladies and gentlemen, what a pair!"

De Luca turned towards Kurt who had sat down on the bed, watching the interaction with a grin, "I _told_ you to put a muzzle on that kid!"

"She'd chew through it," the father answered drolly then found his daughter nodding along with a mock serious look, shaking her head like an old woman, "Yeah."

"Are you sure she's even sick?" De Luca narrowed his eyes at the girl, "I bet she's faking it."

"Am not!"

"Are too," he indulged her.

"I'm pretty sure the vomit was real," Diane smiled, going along with the playful atmosphere.

De Luca grimaced, "Munch germs. Yuck."

"I would be offended," Madison declared, "But instead—since I like ya, Big Tony—I'll save my next round of barf just for you."

"Now don't I feel all special?"

The young girl winked, "Ain't life grand?"

As the unlikely group settled into an easy rhythm of throwing zingers and playful conversations, it didn't take long before they were interrupted yet again by Coyne. There were people at the door, people that hadn't been mentioned to be coming but the names were enough to get Madison sitting up excitedly, prompting a coughing fit that had all three adults practically springing to their feet.

But since Diane Lockhart was closer, she beat both men when she reached for a napkin and a glass of water.

"Don't you go spitting on the lady now, Munch," De Luca teased lightly though his eyes drifted towards her father, catching the way he was looking at the two and wondered if perhaps there was something he was missing in all this.

He wondered if perhaps Kurt had managed to hide a fact about him that involved knowing a Senator but he highly doubted that. Still, the surprising familiarity, and dare he say, comfort that easily flowed between Madison and the public figure was enough to get him feeling the first fringes of worry.

Sure he was going to call the kid names and tease her endlessly, but De Luca wasn't about to stand idly by and watch some strange woman just simply walk in and _bolt_ like that. He knew the kid, knew that while she was generally happy, she was still very much a little girl. And as much as the Senator seemed likable enough, he didn't like what he was seeing. Not really.

Containing the urge to say something—a hard feat—the detective's trained eyes moved from his friend then back to the woman standing by his pseudo-niece. Their eyes met, briefly and he couldn't help the calculating look that came upon his face and saw the slightest expression cloud her features before she gave him a soft smile. If she had seen something in his expression, she wasn't going to make a fuss of it.

But he might.

-o0o-

"You look like crap."

Kurt looked up from the magazine he'd been perusing but really hadn't been seeing. De Luca was leaning against the wall by the bed, next to the empty chair their visitor had vacated moments prior to take a call. It was nearly ten in the evening and, likely due to the events of the day as well as the previous night, Madison was already asleep. It was a first in a long time, even though the girl thought she was fooling her father into thinking she'd been meeting her ten o'clock bedtime.

He shook his head, "Gee, thanks, Tony. Real charmer—Ethel really married up with you, didn't she?"

"Hell yeah," De Luca rumbled, "But really, you look like crap. Go grab some coffee. I'll watch the munchkin."

"I'm fine."

"You're dead on your feet," the detective said simply, "Go grab some coffee. I know you been wantin' one. There's a cafeteria downstairs…hospital crap usually sucks, but maybe they make up the overcharging with some decent coffee."

"I wouldn't count on it," Kurt said but he got up anyway, tossing the magazine aside and stood up, stretching with a groan before moving to his daughter's bedside. "I'll be back," he whispered even though she was clearly deeply asleep and placed a kiss on her temple.

He looked at De Luca, "I won't be long."

"Take all the time ya need," the older man shrugged, "I got nowhere to be."

"Ethy know you're here?" he asked quietly, wondering how he didn't think about his friend's wife who was most likely waiting at home for him.

"Mhm," he rolled his eyes, "She'll be coming by in the morning for some decent food for you guys. Wanted to come tonight, but I told her to wait a little."

"Call her before she sleeps," Kurt cautioned, "And tell her we'll see her tomorrow. And thanks."

"Yeah," De Luca said before jabbing his thumb at the door, "kid dropped like a rock, Kurt. She's not gonna wake up looking for you any time soon."

Kurt smirked, "Right. Thanks for the reassurance."

"S'what I do," the detective said with a thick accent before waving him off again, "Scram."

He was grinning to himself when he pulled the door open, only to be met by a startled squeak and found himself face to face with Diane. She was frozen for a moment before she smiled at him and said, "Excuse me."

And for a moment he wondered just on what level of absurdness it was that he found that simplest series of movements _cute_. She was a grown woman, a beautiful and intimidating woman and the last thing he would ever have thought to describe her was _cute_. But that's where his mind went anyway.

"No, I'm sorry," he said, "Didn't mean to scare you."

She gave him a slight shake of her head, "When you get used to the very people assigned to protect you giving you doomsday scenarios…well, being startled by doors seems to be an expected response of some sort."

"Doomsday scenarios?"

"They have loads of them," she said then frowned, "Not that it means I take anything lightly, at least, not with Mr. Coyne, but," she stopped. "I'm sorry. I'm finding myself not quite being as capable of speaking properly than usual. Wow, even that sentence sounds like a mess. I sound like a bumbling idiot."

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, which only seemed to further the embarrassment she'd been hiding as her cheeks went a little pink.

"You're supposed to reassure me that I don't sound like a bumbling idiot," she muttered, stepping back when he stepped out of the room completely, closing it behind him with a soft click.

"I wouldn't dare disagree with a lady," he pretended to shake his head somberly.

She chuckled, "Not even when she calls herself an idiot?"

He smirked, "I'm not sure. Don't think I was listening when they were dictating the rules. Must've dosed."

"Oh, well," she hummed, "I suppose we can't have everything."

"Suppose not," he nodded then paused, tilting his head to the side, "Mads is asleep…she's kinda beat."

"Oh," Diane said, hiding her disappointment, "Well, that's good. She had quite a day. She needs her rest."

"She needed it before _this_ started," he shook his head then looked at her, "I was wondering…" Then he checked his watch, "Never mind. I had no idea what time it was…I'm sure you want to get home now?"

Diane opened her mouth then closed it, biting the inside of her cheek before give a slight shake of her head, "Actually, no…I'm not needed at the moment and, well, I think I still have…some time to spare."

Kurt looked at her before nodding, "Oh, alright. Okay then." He shoved his hands into his pockets, "I was going to grab a cup of coffee downstairs. Would you like to, ah, join me?"

Diane smiled broadly, "Sounds like a plan." She chuckled, "Sure."

They moved together, walking side by side only to find someone stepping in front of them not too far away. Diane stopped, the smile slipping from her face a little when she saw Justin Coyne. She gave in to a small sigh as he said, "Ma'am?"

"We were thinking about grabbing a coffee," Diane said casually, keeping the frost from her voice though she felt it course through her inside. "Together."

Kurt observed the stand-off, wondering if he'd done started something unpleasant. He should have remembered, he thought with a small jab of frustration. He couldn't _just_ walk off with her, couldn't think it was that easy, despite the privacy they were being granted in the hospital. She was a public figure who was about to take on a new responsibility in the new administration. She was taking on duties that would further her power, give her and her team more to work on for the coming year. Odds were, the higher her level of power, the higher her security and the more worries were spawned.

He mentally smacked himself, for not thinking the impromptu invitation through. He could certainly understand her head of security's concern. It was hard enough, he was sure, keeping up with the events of the day, where everything had been spontaneous and unplanned, but to let her lollygag around by herself was, as he imagined, definitely out of the question.

"It's one of those scenarios," he said, interrupting the stand-off and ended up having both intense pair of eyes suddenly focus on them, "That you mentioned, Diane."

"It's just—"

He shook his head lightly, meeting the agent's eyes, "We'll stay out of windows and sit somewhere she won't be prone, somewhere low risk. I'll make sure we won't stray out of your sight. Or go anywhere other than the cafeteria."

Diane bristled at his side, "We're just going for coffee."

Kurt nodded, turning to her with a gentle look, "They're doing what they were hired to do. Someone has to take your security seriously." He smiled at her, "More than you do."

He could have sworn he heard a slight snort coming from the general direction of the head of security, but he was looking at the woman next to him who seemed to weigh his suggestion seriously. He waited until she nodded tightly with a slight eye roll that almost made him laugh. God, if the Senator was any indication, that eye roll Madison was so fond of using was definitely here to stay for a long, long time.

"Alright," he said, catching the nod from Coyne as well, "Shall we?"

It was obviously not new to Justin Coyne as he simply took his position behind them as they resumed their intended journey which was behind the Senator while far ahead, he caught sight of another agent standing by the elevators. He was sure the elevators had already been summoned. Beside him, Diane had grown silent though she still walked just as gracefully as she had before they'd been interrupted. He knew she was unhappy and decided she must have been fighting the bonds that were being put on her. He couldn't blame her though because she struck him as someone who liked her freedom, who hated having constant shadows darkening her way.

For Kurt, if there was ever a more uncomfortable elevator ride, he couldn't remember. He stood there, in the middle of the box with another tall imposing figure standing just behind him. He didn't even know the man's name, but he was there, lingering and definitely breathing while beside him, the Senator stood simply, unbothered by the presence. In front of them was Mr. Coyne himself, watching the lights and waiting for their designated floor. All four of them were strangers, waiting for the numbers to stop with nothing in common except they really weren't too happy with the situation.

Unable to help himself and inevitably revealing to Diane Lockhart just where his daughter got her sense of mischief, he found himself nodding soundlessly before speaking loudly and conversationally, "So…how 'bout those Giants, huh?"

He was pretty sure he wasn't the only one surprised by the sudden melodious laugh that escaped the blonde's lips just as the numbers in the panel went from six to five.

But if someone asked him, he definitely wouldn't deny he loved hearing that sound coming from her lips.

And knowing he'd been the cause of it.

-o0o-

Somehow, something told her she'd been had.

The three men, she was sure, were ganging up on her. But she had no way to prove it. Not that she even wanted to waste time and energy doing so, but she felt it. She also saw the way Kurt McVeigh turned towards Coyne's second in command, Lloyd Teller, and gave them subtle nods before he left to get them coffee after leaving her on the table they'd chosen.

As promised, it was far from any window, in a corner and was close enough to the doors without leaving her prone. She had rolled her eyes at the men around her, preferring to sit out this particular battle, no matter how much she wanted to protest. She really wanted to try and be better when it came to cooperating with Coyne and his team because god knew they were going to be working side by side for a long, long time.

Besides, the fact alone that their job requirement included stepping in the path of a bullet should it ever veer her way was enough to remind her of just why it was important she not risk herself or do anything foolish. She needed that reminder, needed it to keep herself from forgetting. She liked to think she wasn't the ungrateful or thoughtless kind and she wasn't about to start behaving that way now.

Then again, of course, some circumstances were beyond her control.

It started with a shy nurse, a young brunette with an engaging smile and a hand held out of her to shake. By then, Coyne had already taken his position that was close enough just in case while at the same time left him out of hearing range. The nurse was followed by a couple of young residents, surgeons who were happy to let her know they voted for her, that they had great hopes and agreed with the things she'd done and said. She was gracious with them, just as gracious with the few others that followed, eager to have two seconds with her even in a hospital cafeteria at ten-thirty at night.

Kurt took his time with the coffee, watching her in the corner of his eye as he went through the motions. She was engaging them, showing them that she didn't mind being taken by surprise in a place where she hadn't come in a professional capacity. She was a good politician, more in touch with the public than most of her peers and people eagerly responded to that.

It took a while until the last were gone and they were free to have a moment alone to talk. She took his offering gratefully, cradling the cup in her hands and he took the seat across from her. He watched, curious, as she took an experimental sip and didn't even hide the wince that came right after tasting the brew.

"That good," he mused, grinning.

"It's a conspiracy," she said, shaking her head, "I've yet to come to a hospital that didn't have bad food or good coffee. And believe me, I've been to a _lot_ of hospitals."

"I would imagine," he nodded. "Can't say I disagree."

She smiled, "Maybe it's just…tradition. Or something."

He smirked when she took another sip anyway and decided they both really needed it and did the same.

"How are you?" she asked after a moment, looking at him as her hands continued to cradle her cup, absorbing the heat.

"Better now," he admitted, "But if you asked me earlier…that's another story."

Diane nodded, "I can imagine."

"Have I thanked you for getting her here so fast?" he asked after a beat, folding his arms on the table and leaned forward a little.

"Yes, and I already told you…no need," one shoulder moved in a shrug, "I'd do it again. She's a wonderful girl."

"Yeah, well, she thinks the same," he smirked, shaking his head a little, "Of _you_, I mean. She's taken a shining to you. Madison doesn't do so well usually."

"I think the part where I got her into first class had something to do with it," she chuckled, "That and I have my own Twitter account and actually know how to use it."

He laughed a little, "I'll just bet."

"Although, actually—"

"Senator!"

The sudden appearance of Diane's senior aide startled both of them, almost causing Kurt to knock his cup over while his companion looked over just as Annie Clawson came through the doors. Teller was trailing right her and already speaking into the receiver in his wrist.

"Senator, it's time to leave," Annie said, practically breathless just as she reached the table. She handed Diane's coat to her, only to have Kurt intercept it and held it for her instead.

"What's going on?" the Senator asked even as she allowed Kurt to help her into her coat, whirling around to face Annie as soon as she had it on properly.

"There's press outside," Annie explained, her cheeks flushed. "Mr. Gold is clearing them out front but they're trying to get in. They know you're in here."

"How—"

"Senator, we have to leave," Coyne inserted, a hand near his ear as he listened to the information being rattled off to him via his earpiece, "James has the car out the back, near the Emergency bay. We have to go."

Diane turned to Kurt, ready to sputter some form of apology only to have him begin shaking his head at her and let his hand settle on her lower back, "Come on," was all he said before leading her towards the doors, following Coyne and Annie as they surged forward.

Usually she didn't get this kind of attention, at least, not in a way that would spark a reaction like this from the press. But her duties and ties with the President were transitioning, changing into something more important and everything was being kept quiet over the holidays. Nothing was being said, apart from speculations and that left the press hungry, every single one of them eager to be the first to tell the public what exactly was going on behind the scenes. She'd made a lot of friends as of late, to see her advancing in the ranks was enough to make more than a few people curious outside the Beltway.

Diane barely had the chance to form a coherent thought, let alone find the words to tell him something—anything—as they walked brusquely down the halls of the hospital. He kept his hold on her, never straying too far and managed not to trip her as he went along. For reasons unknown to her through the haste, Diane felt safe, that somehow, nothing about his touching her felt wrong even though they'd only just met.

In the midst of it, some part of her wanted to be angry, wanted to feel upset that their time had been cut short. Through the hospital stay, through the waiting, they'd barely spoken with just each other. The first time they arrived, Madison had been the center of their thoughts, when they had her in the room and as well as when De Luca came, they didn't have much conversation other than putting in a word or two between the chatters.

And somehow, that felt wrong to her. She had come for Madison, to make sure she was okay, but now that the time had come for her to leave—why had she even stayed when she wasn't even a friend, let alone family?—still, she regretted not having had a chance to get to know the man who was so dutifully participating in what was, essentially, a getaway for her. God, there were days she truly hated being in the public eye.

They reached the exit easily, slipping through the double doors in a thankfully quiet Emergency Room. The town car was already there with James Rice waiting by the door.

Diane barely had a chance to pause as they stepped out into the cold Chicago winter, stopping just as the car door was opened for her.

And there, under what light the hospital could provide under the cover of the night, she managed to look at Kurt McVeigh one last time. She opened her mouth to speak, only to swallow nervously instead before any words could come out. For some reason, her brain had suddenly shut down and not even her Ivy League education and training could help her find the words to say anything. Somehow, through everything, she could only look at the man with whom, for a moment, she had felt less alone.

The feelings she had felt in the airport, watching those people, he and his daughter had managed to make her forget for a moment. Somehow, in what little time she had spent in their presence, she forgot the loneliness that had taken hold of her and they had, in a way, made her feel alive in a way she hadn't quite been in a long time. For Diane, it had been years since she'd felt like she'd belonged to a family and she had, with them, for at least a few hours.

Diane heard her detail call her again, using her title once more before she took another look at the man who was standing in front of her. The same man who had somehow gotten a hold of her hand in the cold and she hadn't even noticed him doing so to begin with. She managed to meet his eyes, though she could not help the soft push of sadness that came with her thoughts as her mind once again tried to find the right words to say.

Her hand drifted towards his shoulder, the only safe place she could think about touching without seeming overtly forward or intimate, unsure if she was even permitted when she was really a stranger to the man. Her hand urged to curl, to dig into the fabric of his jacket and hang on but she stopped herself in time. Instead, she said the words that seemed to be the only ones left in her mind, "Thank you."

But in her eyes, he could see she was also sorry. For what? He wasn't sure, but there was a brush of sadness there that made him want to reach out one more time, if only to see if then emotions were still there. He wasn't sure he'd imagined seeing her that way.

Diane gave him one last look before she allowed herself to be slipped into the car, into the darkness of the vehicle. Her hand hadn't even had the chance to linger on him as he stepped back just in time to let Annie pass while Coyne took the front passenger seat and commanded the driver to go. Teller waited until the car had sped off and was immediately followed by another town car, as if appearing out of nowhere, and slid in. Kurt only barely managed to catch Eli Gold's profile inside before the door was slammed shut.

The sleek black town cars sped away, leaving Kurt McVeigh standing in the snow, knowing not what to do as he watched them round the corner before disappearing completely from view. He only just had minutes before the doors burst behind him, bringing in five bundled up people through, cameras at the ready and calling for a Senator who was long gone.

Kurt didn't acknowledge them and instead, walked back into the hospital without another word.

Chicago was blanketed in the thick winter snow that night, though somehow, inside things felt even colder as he retraced their steps from the Emergency Room up to the elevator banks. The place seemed dimmer now, maybe even _smaller _without her presence. The place felt the way hospitals always made him feel, the same feeling that had been lacking while he found himself listening to her talk to his daughter, listening to them laugh. That was then when reality crashed over him, when he'd felt the sudden loss of a woman he didn't even have twenty-four hours with at the very least.

That was when he realized just _how_ unreachable she was, just how remote the chances of them seeing each other again really were. She'd just been spirited away because of her life, because she was who she was and somehow, it was like a sucker punch to the gut. How many times does a forensic specialist and a State Senator cross paths? If not for some bad airline service or his curious meddlesome daughter, he was sure they never even would have even glimpsed each other in this lifetime.

She wasn't someone he was used to being around and her kind of life was definitely _not_ something he was familiar with. It wasn't even a life he wanted, not the lifestyle at least because as far as he was concerned, it may as well be another world. She was everything that _wasn't_ ever in his mind.

And yet, somehow, he couldn't find the exact answer as to why despite how wrong and different they were, one irrefutable truth remained: no matter how wrong, how different, Kurt couldn't think about why exactly he wished he could see her again and spend more time with her.

Even when she was everything he didn't think to ever want.

-o0o-

The ride through the city was quiet.

Annie met Coyne's eyes through the rearview mirror and couldn't help the frown she showed him. If not for the slight movement in his eyebrow, she wouldn't have thought he had responded but that was all she needed to know he understood her unease. She gave him a tight smile even though she knew that was useless but decided it was better than nothing.

Then her boss' phone, the private line, began to vibrate in her pocket. The slight buzz could be audibly heard as it lit up to life and Annie reached in, not at all surprised by the name she found on the screen. She swallowed, wishing she could curse then decided to clear her throat lowly instead.

"Senator," she began, tentative as she looked at the woman next to her who seemed to be lost watching the city as it passed them by, "It's Mr. Gold."

Not a movement, not a flinch and the older woman didn't make a move to accept the proffered piece of technology as it continued to buzz and Annie didn't need the words to be spelled out to her then. She nodded, once again not surprised the silent refusal and instead, answered the phone for her.

"Mr. Gold?" Annie began, "The Senator is not available to speak at the moment…yes, yes, we're headed back to the house. Of course. I'll tell her, sir."

By the time she hung up, Diane Lockhart was already looking at her and Annie couldn't help but be struck by what she saw on the woman's face. Never had she seen her so open when she'd always been so good at guarding her emotions and the way she reacted to things. She was so disciplined, so in control and for Annie to see her _this_ bare, it almost felt like a violation.

She had never seen her look so sad and a part of Annie felt that somehow, it was _just_ because her visit in the hospital had been cut short. It was more than that, she imagined, because there were things that even Annie wasn't privy to but was quite aware of. She'd been with Diane too long not to at least have picked up a few things, both professionally and personally.

"Mr. Gold wanted to speak with you," she said without being asked. "He'll be waiting at the house and—"

"No," Diane said, quietly, "I'd like to go to the other house, please."

Annie's mouth dropped open slightly, "What? The other…well, it's clean and maintained right now, but I don't think I can guarantee there will be food or-or anything there at the moment."

The house they were heading off to originally was the one in the city, the house that had been in the Senator's family for generations and was her permanent residence. Her home had been prepared already for her return, complete with holiday decorations, food and all necessities required.

"Mrs. Wheedon is still around?" Diane asked.

"Yes, but—"

"That's fine," she said, "I still have my things there and you can leave my luggage there as well."

Annie nodded, "Yes, Senator."

Her eyes met Coyne's again and this time, it was his turn to give her a look except that one was more of his frustration showing. Apart from the Lockhart house being prepared for the holidays, the precautions and security measures had already been taken into account as well. Annie was sure Coyne had regular checks done on the other house, but she knew he would prefer the prepared home already.

"We'll send a team ahead," Coyne said, conceding for once and decided it was late enough into the night for another discussion about security. The house was safe and was considerably smaller and was located in a more low-key section of the city.

Annie turned to Diane again, only to find her attention was once again elsewhere, far enough for her to guess correctly it was anywhere but concerned with the people in the car or within the car itself.

The driver took a turn and changed the route, pertinent to their new destination and even though it was nearing eleven-thirty at night, there were still a few souls scattered around the city. People went about their lives, living the night through and some, walking with friends.

Like the city lights, Chicago was indeed still very much awake and alive. For Senator Lockhart, gazing out the heavily tinted windows and watching the people they passed, she'd never felt more detached from what she saw that night than anything else in her life.

And it only made the silence around her seem louder and the night just a little bit colder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Awake and Waking**

"And she was _so_ nice, like, totally normal, you know?"

De Luca met his best friend's eyes from across the bed, rolling them exaggeratedly before nodding his head towards the teen. Currently, his wife Ethel was sitting on the side of the bed, listening to Madison tell her all about the Senator that had her so enthralled. Kurt merely smiled, returning to his book while his best friend's wife humored his daughter and fed her a good home cooked meal at the same time. He had witnessed beforehand how charmed Madison had been by Diane Lockhart, asking him about the woman the moment she had woken.

He hadn't lied to her though due to their 'no lying' policy and had explained to her exactly what had taken place the night before. Kurt had expected her to be disappointed or at least for a bad reaction, but she had merely smiled and sighed, grinning wildly as she made him recount _exactly_ what happened before the woman had been spirited away. He played it off as plain as he could, but even then she been deeply immersed in the whole of it, commenting how it felt like a movie or some story she'd only encounter in books.

They hadn't mentioned about the possibility that Diane might return and Madison didn't inquire. Instead, they spent the early morning talking and had managed to speak to Dr. Danforth herself, declaring Madison cleared and allowed to check out at any time of the day. De Luca and Ethel had come mid-morning, bringing along comfort food from their home.

"She sounds like a wonderful lady," Ethel smiled as Madison finished her soup, politely thanking her when she took the tray away. "I'm sure you charmed her just as much."

"Yeah, because barfing is always adorable," De Luca teased, only to receive a light smack on the shoulder from his wife.

"Oh, don't listen to him, sugar," Ethel winked at Madison, "He's just jealous 'cause you got to get to know the Senator. Why, he's smitten with her. Just won't show it."

"Am not," he declared, "I am a _happily_ married man to the most wonderful wife in the world."

"Yeah, yeah," Ethel shook her head, "Don't you lie to me, _Antonio_. I know you better. But it's alright. We're allowed to have our own little crushes."

Madison laughed, "Ooh…Big Tony's got a crush."

"Wait," De Luca looked at, catching the wicked grin on his wife's face, "What exactly do you mean _our own little crushes_? Ethel Grace, are you telling _me_, your husband of 23 years, that _you_ have a crush?"

"There's Mr. Clooney, Mr. Pitt and good ol' Mr. McGraw—and I _mean_ Tim, not Phil," Ethel replied in the thick Southern accent that she could easily slip back into at any moment. She was a daughter of the South, through and through, right from the effortless grace in every move she made, her home cooked meals and her ability to rile her husband up two ways to Sunday.

That and she could curse like a real Southern lady too and Madison loved it every time that side of Ethel came out. She knew a lot about keeping her husband on the ground.

"How am I only hearing about this now?" the Italian feigned indignation, "Ethel Grace Flagg, how dare you?"

"You spend the night drooling over some attractive leggy _blonde_ politician and you expect _me_ to sit back and not say a thing, mister big man? Why, boy, have you forgotten who you married to?"

Ethel Grace De Luca stood tall, hand on one cocked hip, a perfectly shaped eyebrow arched, lips red on her pale white skin and perfectly coiffed hair in place. The lady was very well there with her accent and high heeled shoe ready to kick her husband's ass in front of their family and one particular teen was on the edge of her seat with a wicked grin on her face and suppressing the urge to squeal. They were her favorite couple because she'd never quite seen Big ol' tough guy Tony fold like a house of cards on a windy day when confronted by his wife.

The man had already been shot twice on separate occasions and that still didn't make him fear guns, mutilation, disfigurement or death any more than his wife did. The man was _whipped_. And it was fun to watch because even underneath it all, it was clear they were a couple still very much in love.

"No, ma'am," was all De Luca could say, sitting back on his seat and winked at his wife.

Ethel merely shook her head before turning to Madison, "See, darlin'? Easy as pie. You find a big strong man who knows how to treat a lady and you'll be just fine."

"Ah, hell, Ethy, why you gotta bring up the girl finding a man in front of her daddy?"

The beautiful brunette turned to Kurt who had been sitting silently through the exchange. Scenes like the ones the De Lucas just had were not uncommon among them and Kurt was used to it. What else could anyone expect when the couple involved one traditional Italian son and a daughter of the Deep South? It was madness half the time with just the right amount of love to prevent a murder-suicide from taking place.

"Oh, Kurt, hun," she laughed a little, "Don't you worry about your girl. She's still and will always be your baby. And she knows it." She smirked, "Besides, she doesn't even like boys. According to her they're—"

"Disgusting," Madison chimed in, "At least the ones I've met. And she's right dad, don't worry."

"Yeah, sure," Kurt shook his head, smiling though he wasn't about to deny _his_ little girl's life had flashed before his eyes at the mere mention of her and men. Good god, he was _not_ going to survive the very day she asks about—or gets caught—no longer finding boys disgusting.

Ethel smiled, turning towards Madison again, "Now, you little miss, what would you like next? I've got some cupcakes my dear husband tried to steal _three times_ this morning."

"Just for that, I will most definitely have some, please," Madison said primly, smirking at De Luca who gave her a scowl. There was a reason why he kept up with his gym schedule and spent the occasional weekend playing tennis with her and her father. Ethel was too much a good cook _not_ to eat what she gave you.

"That's my girl," Ethel smiled before returning to the table where she had set the feast she had made for the McVeighs down. "Now, why don't you tell me more about this lady Senator. I sure like the sound of her. Saw her on CNN a few days ago…spitfire, I say."

"She's awesome, 'nuff said," Madison declared.

"Are you sure she was even sick in the first place?" De Luca asked Kurt, "She's fine now."

"Dr. Danforth thinks it may have been a bug of some sort," Kurt shrugged, "But she's fine now, 'cept for a slight cough but as long as she's eating, that's fine."

"And just so you two old dudes now, my hearing is _impeccable_," Madison shook her head, pretending to be disappointed. "It's criminal what aging does to people."

Ethel chuckled, "Amen to that."

"Hey!" both men chorused at the same time.

Then a sound interrupted the teasing around the room and Madison jumped, grabbing her phone from where she had tucked it beside her.

"Someone's got a new phone," Ethel smiled at Kurt who merely shook his head, mouthing _grandparents_ at her.

"Oh, wow," the girl suddenly said, "Dad, seriously, you will not believe this!"

"What?" Kurt looked up, quite used to the _omg_-fueled outburst his daughter was highly capable of whenever it was a cellphone she was confronting, "What's going on?"

"Mandy just sent me a text," Madison began, "She's stuck in school getting the gym ready for the pageant and she said she thought I was totally kidding about last night—"

"Mads, I don't think we're supposed to tell people about—"

"Just Mandy, I swear, and I can _totally_ trust her," she insisted, "More than Becca and it's not as if I could tell Grace 'cause, _you know_, but that is NOT the point! Mandy thought I was totally kidding about the whole thing _but_ she read it on someone's blog about _us_ yesterday!"

"What?" De Luca stood up, his eyes meeting Kurt's.

"It's on someone's blog, you get it?" Madison didn't stop to get a confirmation, "Anyway, someone spotted the Senator at the airport and someone must have said something _because_ they totally knew about her and the whole thing about the seats! Oh, my god!"

"Were your names mentioned or—"

"No," Madison shook her head, "Mandy said someone just wrote about how nice the Senator was and stuff. People are saying good things about her. _But_ seriously! How _cool _is this? I mean, sure it's just Mandy, but this is _so _cool!"

Ethel noticed the look on her husband's face and moved next to Madison again, patting her father on the shoulder lightly to let him know it was safe to go. She was going to take the role of amusing the teen while her husband got whatever was in his head out and talk to Kurt about it. She knew just how protective her man was when it came to the girl and her father. They were family, after all.

"Did anyone from the press see you last night?" De Luca asked, curious while at the same time serious without being alarming.

Kurt shook his head, "No. She was gone before they could even see she was there."

"But that Eli guy was with her," De Luca said, remembering too well the feared political animal of Chicago before he'd become a fixture in the Senator's team.

"Yeah, he kept them back but he left with her," Kurt answered, "You think this is going to be a problem?"

"Don't know," De Luca shook his head, "But she's been cleared. We should probably leave. I'm sure there are people who'll be glad to tell them all about what they saw last night." He frowned, "May seem like nothing to us, but you never know. The press and the media these days? Animals."

Kurt nodded, "We'll head back home then."

"Yeah," his friend nodded, "You still heading out for Christmas?"

"Two days before," Kurt confirmed, "The morning after her slumber party."

"Good, better," De Luca replied. "Ethy and I will come up mornin' after we see her parents. Now, you stay here and listen to your girl gush more about that new lady friend of yours—"

"For the last time, Tony, she's not—"

The detective smirked, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I know. Just a thing. Whatever you say, alright? I'll go and get the discharge thing done so we can get the heck outta here."

Kurt gave his friend a light punch on the shoulder as he passed him, turning to his daughter again as she spoke excitedly with Ethel. Their eyes met and she beamed at him, smiling just a little brighter than normal and inside, he couldn't help but miss the reason behind that smile

And wonder what she could be doing now.

-o0o-

Diane Lockhart groaned loudly as she chucked her phone across the bed.

She had lost count the number of times Eli Gold's name flashed across the screen of her phone and wondered just how red his face was that moment. She hadn't seen him the night before after telling Coyne to tell his driver to take him back home instead of letting him follow her. They had gotten home late and they all needed rest just as much as they did not need another session that involved discussing her security _again_ with the political strategist.

In fact, she hadn't even allowed Annie or Coyne to let Eli know she was _not_ going to be staying in her old family home for the holidays. They had discussed that too, the pros and cons on which house to stay in and decided together. She just hadn't counted on changing her mind so suddenly. She was lucky Coyne had allowed for the change, knowing the transferring of his team and changing their original plans was an inconvenience they did not appreciate.

She sat back against the headboard of the bed she hadn't occupied in almost eight years and looked around the room she had stayed away from for the last two years. The room looked the same and if the coldness only she could feel hadn't been there, she would easily assume someone had been occupying it while she was gone. As if someone had tried not to let the room die or come to nothing. That wasn't the case though. She just knew that her housekeeper kept the place clean and livable, making sure it would be ready for any visit that may come unexpected.

Diane never thought she would ever do such a thing, especially these days, and yet she had. Somehow, she hadn't quite decided how she felt about the choice she made without even truly thinking about it. She wasn't even sure if she wasn't beginning to regret it yet though that did not mean she was about to tell her staff she was going _back_ to her original decision because she was pretty sure by then Justin Coyne might just snap and shoot her himself. And damn it, she knew the man was a hell of a marksman.

At this point, she had made the decision and she wasn't up to aggravating the people around her. They had a tough year and they weren't going to pretend the coming one was going to be any less challenging. She wasn't going to let their admittedly short and sporadic holiday season go into ruins just because she had personal things to deal with by herself.

No matter how many years had gone by, no matter how she _okay_ she was feeling now and had accepted everything, it did not mean she couldn't feel sad now and again. And December always hit her the hardest, no matter how much she tried not to let it. She was human and during this time of the year, she let herself feel that because the following new set of eleven would be out of the question. It was essential in the effort to hold on to her sanity.

Diane glanced at the clock, surprised to find out it was almost ten in the morning. It had been a long time since she's found herself still in bed before eight at the latest. Her days tended to start at the crack of dawn or before, depending on her schedule or how she had slept the night before. For once, she had nothing to do for a whole day. In the following days, her schedules would come back with a vengeance and it was not going to be no less light despite the approach of Christmas.

Though to be honest, she had no idea what to do. She had held off Annie, telling her to come at ten and Coyne and his team would have started their shift at seven and relieved the previous one, most likely in the first floor of the brownstone she was occupying, checking and rechecking with his team or whatever it is he did while not following her around.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Heather Wheedon, would most likely be doing housework. She had come in earlier, leaving a tray for Diane as she slept though she hadn't touched it yet. It was her usual breakfast, or was, at least, when it had been another time. Without looking at the prepared tray, she was sure there was going to be a pot of coffee at the ready, in a beautiful china pot, covered by a tea cozy.

It made her stomach turn, not just the food but the mere reminder of what used to be.

Even the caffeine fiend in her wasn't enough to have her reaching for the pot.

Diane pulled her legs up to her chest, hunching a little as she curled up, stretching the worn material of an old sweater she had found in her closet. It was the lightest shade of dusty rose, one of the oldest things she had in her closet and it had been loved, once upon a time.

It was also one of the things she had reluctantly left behind when things began to change rapidly around her, before her life revolved more around Washington than Chicago.

The house was equipped to be kept in a set temperature and yet, despite the controlled atmosphere, Diane was cold and it led to pulling out a pair of yoga pants and thick socks. She spent the night bundled up although the kind of cold she was feeling wasn't due to being ill or even the weather. Diane just felt cold.

And a part of her knew that being in the house might have something to do with that.

She shook her head just as her phone began to chirp back into life, fighting the urge to grab it and just hurtle it across the room right at the wall. She restrained herself and instead pulled the covers back up, curling up underneath the thick duvet.

Diane pulled the covers up well and over her head, resting her head on her pillow and closed her eyes.

And without meaning to as she kicked her legs and straightened them, she sent her phone flying off the bed and onto the carpeted floors, falling just next to where her slippers lay. The call cut off, removing Eli Gold's name from the screen and was instead replaced with the information of just how many calls she had missed since that morning began.

Sighing with relief to be granted the silence she sought once again, Diane closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift back to sleep.

On her bedside table was her tablet, untouched after she had received a text from Annie that morning, informing her of what she had found. The screen had been left with the blog _Carlton's World_ on display, relaying with glee just what the owner of the domain witnessed and found out the day before while waiting for his flight to Chicago.

Nice things had been written but even that wasn't enough to make the Senator that had been the main topic of the entry happy.

Diane Lockhart slept on, unable to help resenting the world for all it was that morning. A part of her was at least relieved only her name as well as Eli's had been in that entry and fiercely she hoped it would stay that way. It wasn't shaping up to be a good day and she didn't need to be a rocket scientist to know what Eli was calling her so persistently. Normally she would pick up but at that moment, she didn't care because all she wanted to do was sleep.

It seemed the preferable choice than dealing with what else could be coming.

-o0o-

"What do you mean she's not there?"

Eli paced back in forth in the office in his home, dressed down in a cashmere gray sweater and slacks. His daughter was in the living room, happily wiping the floor with him at archery in Wii after he had banned dancing from their options. He had snuck off after having his fourteenth phone call was once again left unanswered and he had finally tracked down Annie who seemed a little hesitant to let him know of the change of plans from last night.

"What the _hell_ is she doing in that house?" Eli growled, "We had a _plan_, for Christ sake, what happened? And why the hell wasn't I told?"

He paused, listening to the other end. It seemed Annie didn't know any more than he did and he was also now just finding out she had been banned from reporting until ten. Coyne had checked in that morning and had proceeded into their usual practice of giving him a situation report, letting him know everything was well and good, but had seemed to forget about informing him about one crucial detail. Annie took care of that too, telling him that even Coyne must have been warned off severely enough to have him backing down.

Eli shook his head, clutching his phone tightly in his hand, "What exactly—I _know_ you already told me, tell me again. Something must have happened." He glared at the wall, stopping in the middle of his carpet he'd been in the process of burning a hole through. "She knows about the blog? Yeah, go and talk to your contacts. I want to know what else anyone might have."

He shook his head, remaining stoic as Annie gave him the rundown of what happened the night before, who she might talk to and as well as the next day's schedule. Today was supposed to be for them to rest, but Annie had told him about _Carlton's World_ as well. That goddamned blog, he thought, not even knowing who was behind it. He was just waiting now for someone to pick it up—they weren't exactly traveling incognito the night before and if the press at the hospital had been anything to go by, this was bound to get picked up.

Not that it was a scandal, but it was still news. In the middle of preparing for the project they were setting up with the President of the United States at that and Eli couldn't let anything go wrong, not at this stage.

"You know what? Screw this," he ran his hand through his hair, "I'm going—no, Annie, _no_. I'm going there. Today. We're going to sort this out. I don't know what happened last night, but we _cannot_ afford anything to go wrong. I'll see her later. She can yell at me all she wants, but we're dealing with this." He checked his watch, calculating the time he had left with his daughter before she set out to meet her friends. "Don't you dare warn her, do you hear me? I'll wait all day there if I have to."

He hung up, tossing his phone on his desk before returning to his chair and grabbed the files spread out in front of him. As of the moment, he was unsure of what to do with what he had, of what he knew, but he was going to have to decide soon. He knew the press, knew they'd been waiting for something like this to happen with Diane, especially when she had declared officially that she was running for Senate.

Eli had done a good job so far, making sure nothing was leaked and she managed to have some semblance of a life. They'd yet to have a scandal or even a serious link with her with any man and god knew people had been waiting for something to come out. After all, she was attractive and successful, liked by the people and all she needed was a suitable match.

Not that there had been any remarkable number of men with the Senate being her main focus and before that, it the campaign, before that, being Governor—politics may not have been her first love, but it has sure been her life and while Eli was glad, as her Chief of Staff, for a while, as her friend, he had wondered if she ever was thinking about seriously pursuing a romantic relationship but she never quite did. A date here and there, maybe someone she would invite to functions with her, but no one was ever asked to stay long enough for anything remarkable to develop.

There was an Ambassador, but he spent more time overseas than stateside and a part of Eli honestly thinks that's one of the main reasons why he was one of the very few Diane ever allowed to come back because staying, for him, wasn't a solid option. He came and went, allowing her the out she needed so she would not have to commit when it wasn't a possibility to begin with.

And now, she was back at the house and Eli was ready to storm the place and ask her as well as the people around her, what the hell they were thinking. It was one thing to keep the place, it was quite another to be there _and_ spend the holidays there too.

The house would be just a house if it was, but it wasn't. In fact, it was far from that because that was where Diane Lockhart spent a treasured part of her life being Mrs. Stephen Hastings.

Diane had met her husband during law school and they'd fallen in love and married right after graduating. They had no children and that was okay because both had been caught in their thriving careers and they were willing to let whatever happen, happen, knowing pressuring each other on the matter could possibly do more harm than good. They were fine, either way.

Stephen had fully supported Diane when she began to seriously consider running for public office, following her father's legacy. He had been there for her when it began and the plans started becoming realer and realer. He hadn't complained and stayed beside her, offering the support and encouragement she needed, pulling her back down to earth whenever it was required. He knew her better than she knew herself and always seemed to know what she needed when as if he could read her mind. They were devoted solely to each other, deeply in love to the end.

Having Stephen was what Diane needed in her life and together, they were happy and content. They gave each other love and security and Diane had been thankful for every day they shared.

And that was why it took her a long time to recover after losing him so suddenly to a reckless driver one tragic Wednesday morning. He had been on his way to work and they had shared a hasty breakfast and hurried I-love-yous before they parted. He'd barely been halfway through his journey when his black Mercedes Benz was suddenly rammed out of nowhere and sent his car screeching towards a guardrail. The accident had left devastating results, pushing the steering wheel into his chest and crushed his heart and ribs, causing it to pierce his lung.

Stephen Hastings was dead before help could arrive and he left behind a wife who wouldn't be informed until two hours after he was gone.

Eli may not have been through what Diane had, but he could understand her private struggle. He hoped to never have to go through that, actually, because even though he had divorced his wife, she was still the mother of his daughter he still had some affection left for her. And should he ever find someone else someday, he still hoped not to have to go through that. It was too hard and Eli didn't quite know how to even just imagine making it through.

Diane had made it though and for a long time now, he's seen that she's been fine, okay even.

But going back to that house, the house she had shared with Stephen, was a definite sign that she was _not_ okay and Eli was not sitting back and waiting for something else to happen. He didn't expect her to fall apart, that wasn't her, but at the same time, Eli did not know _what_ to expect. He was pretty sure she hadn't been in that house in almost a year.

Thinking back, Eli mentally smacked himself, deciding he should have seen something like the house-switch she pulled happening. She had done well compartmentalizing the night before while waiting on word about Madison McVeigh. He knew, should have known, there would be some sort of reaction, no matter how subtle or not. She was human and the holidays always hit her the hardest, the one time in the year she let herself mourn her loss.

It may have been nearly a decade since Stephen died, but it didn't make the loss any less painful. The shock was gone, but the pain would be there and it would always be. Someday it might dull but it'll never be truly gone, that much Eli understood.

Picking up a folder and flipping it open, he eyed the document in front of him. They were couriered early that morning after pulling some choice favors. These were the lives of Kurt and Madison McVeigh, father and daughter, both natives of Chicago. These were the files that could not be scoured through phone calls or government databases.

Eli read the information for the third time that day, wondering what to do with it. On one hand, he didn't think they were going to need it. On the other, he wasn't entirely too sure of that. A part of him was glad there wasn't too much on the two, at least not enough to make him imagine doomsday scenarios that could topple his candidate, but the other wasn't too sure if he could let yesterday's events have a chance of a repeat.

He couldn't force Diane—she was especially stubborn during the holidays as well—or hold her back from seeing them again, but Eli had not been informed of a change in plans. She was going to stay home today and rest, two words she hated but severely needed.

And Eli was not going to presume he would know how she was going to react to the things that had happened the last twenty-four hours. She was already in a dark mood, the decision to go back to her old home and as well as the way she had connected with Madison, was enough to make Eli think twice about not considering that she might do things a little differently than she normally would.

Police officers might hate Halloween the worst because those were the craziest times of the year, for Eli—who is Jewish, by the way, and had Hanukkah—Christmas was his Halloween and it was when things got different enough to drive him nearly mad. A part of him was sure this year was going to be the strangest yet.

Shaking his head, Eli grabbed the files on the father and daughter, pushing them into his drawer and locked it inside. Marissa was hooting and hollering outside, declaring her victory. He needed to spend time with her, having spent most of the month in Washington already. He missed his little hell raiser and he wasn't about to let her savor that victory too long. Eli was going to soak up as much time with his only child as he could before his ex-wife came by to take her out to lunch.

He would deal with Diane and everything else later. In the meantime, he had some arrows and targets to line up. After that, he was seriously considering checking out just how well Marissa's fencing classes were going. It had displeased him greatly to have been informed by his much too gleeful ex about their daughter and a certain cute assistant from the class. If she did badly, he was going to transfer her and annihilate either the boy or the class itself.

Eli smiled, pleased with himself and not at all concerned about his 'monster-dad' tendencies.

Marissa would punish him, for sure, but it would be well worth it.

-o0o-

"I was thinking _Dolce & Gabbana _for tomorrow—"

"What's happening tomorrow?"

Annie looked up, surprised. Diane usually had that eerily unnerving way of staying on top of things, of remembering schedules and dates, which made Annie's and as well as the other aides' jobs easier, but that morning, Diane didn't seem eager to practice that particular talent as she poured them a cup of coffee each. She'd never seen her boss spacey, not even during the most exhausting campaign days, to have her _not_ remembering what tomorrow had was surprising.

They were in the kitchen together after Diane had insisted Mrs. Wheedon take the day off. The old woman had protested though eventually gave in, kissing the Senator on the cheek before heading off, chuckling on her way out and declaring she would be seeing some friends, leaving Annie and her boss to fend for themselves. Not that there was much to be done, considering she had already prepared lunch.

"The party at the Florrick family's home at Highland Park," Annie supplied, "Mrs. Florrick herself called to confirm? She said you owe her margaritas."

Diane smiled a little, "Please tell Alicia I'll be bringing a bottle then."

Annie nodded, "I've got the _Dolce _slated for it."

"It's not an official event," Diane looked up as she brought the coffee onto the island they were occupying, "I'd rather not be thoroughly decked out. Alicia wouldn't have held the party at Highland Park if it was going to be tagged along with her husband's office. No, this one is private."

At first it had been disconcerting for her, to actually _need_ someone to plan her wardrobe out for her but she'd _almost_ gotten used to it. It was one thing to have someone do her makeup professionally, needing someone to pick out her clothes had given her a considerable reason to balk in the beginning.

"Okay," Annie nodded, "How about the charity luncheon for the Shelter for Battered Women & Children? I think the suit is understated enough."

"With the blue coat," Diane murmured, adding cream and sugar to her coffee before handing them off to Annie. "And the day after? Tickets to the ballet for DePaul's Feed the Homeless Project? How's that doing, by the way?"

"Very well," Annie answered, "They're set to start to open their first shelter the day after the ballet. They've been getting generous donations and I've already sent out your pledge…as well as Mr. Gold's and the money the staff pooled together."

Diane smiled, not at all surprised by the gesture. The people on her team weren't strangers to poverty and tried as often as they could to help out when it was possible. She'd often heard them discussing business while collecting money for a joint check they would send where it was most needed. It wasn't about tax deduction, for them, it was their way of helping out.

"Oh! And Mrs. Florrick also said she's penciled you in for the…er, Christmas Tree Hunt in three days," Annie grinned, "She's taking Zach and Grace too."

"Is that the one were the city gives out trees and ornaments for families?"

"That one," Annie nodded, "Some schools are participating this year with kids who volunteered for the event and they have Santa Claus visiting, along with the presents from the North Pole…and by North Pole, I mean the toy drive Mrs. Florrick orchestrated."

Diane smiled, "Tell her I'll be there then. I'll talk to Eli about bringing Marissa as well if she's willing to tag along."

"I'm sure she will be," Annie smiled, knowing Marissa liked hanging out with Diane while making her father seethe in a corner. The fifteen-going-on-sixteen-year-old girl was a mischievous character and Diane liked torturing Eli with her whenever possible, "Alright then."

Diane checked her watch, biting her bottom lip before finally deciding. She grabbed her cup and stood up, pausing before turning to Annie, "Would you mind telling Mr. Coyne I've decided to go out?"

Annie hid her surprise, "Sure, would you prefer to eat lunch outside or—"

"No, no," Diane shook her head, "I mean…I'm _not_ going out to eat. I'd like to head to the hospital, actually"

"Oh," Annie couldn't hide her smile, "Of course. I'll tell them."

Diane smiled, thanking her before leaving the kitchen and headed back up to her room to change while Annie sat back, grinning to herself. She shook her head, unable to help the slight giggles that came over her before calling the agent that was just in the other room. She informed him of the change in plans and didn't have to wait too long to have Coyne come in and discuss with her what exactly was about to happen.

The agent barely even shrugged then, seemingly unsurprised and Annie could not help but grin even more. Either the Senator was unaware that she was being incredibly—albeit unusually—transparent or she didn't care. Annie was pretty sure it was the former and while she was quite surprised of the development, it was a nice one. She thought the day already shot for sure by the blog they'd stumbled across.

Dialing the number of the hospital, Annie checked for Madison McVeigh to confirm if she was still there. They were and Annie didn't bother leaving her name, preferring for the visit to not be spread around the hospital and have a repeat of the previous night. She sighed then, quite unhappy about the night before—she was pretty sure she had interrupted something in that cafeteria.

It didn't take long before Diane was ready, dressed in a black turtleneck, black slacks tucked into matching winter boots. She had her tote and a tan coat draped over one arm and allowed her hair to stay in its natural state, lying softly just off her shoulder. Annie smiled, thinking that for the average Joe who didn't bother with the news or paid it much attention, Diane could probably pass as any other citizen.

Pair it with sunglasses and Annie was sure Diane could walk into the hospital fairly unnoticed—well, maybe save for the detail that followed her wherever she went. That was the kibosh in that forming thought in her mind. Annie then decided that sometimes it must really suck to be her boss.

"Well? Too much?" Diane asked as Annie gathered her things.

"Perfect," the younger woman smiled, "Justin has the car ready and James is driving us again. After last night, he's pretty sure he's got game now."

Diane chuckled, shaking her head as they headed outside where Coyne was already waiting. She gave him a pleasant smile as he greeted her good morning and returned it.

"I'd like to make a stop first," she told him, stopping by the door, "And maybe talk about this visit?"

Coyne nodded, "Of course, ma'am."

Diane nodded, slipping in and Annie followed close behind. The young woman gave the agent a grin, waggling her eyebrows playfully at him before showing him her gloved hand, palm up. He hesitated, his jaw twitching slightly before he surreptitiously lifted his hand and placed a twenty dollar bill on hers.

"Pleasure doing business, sir," the woman said with an impish grin before slipping into the vehicle.

Annie had bet him that Diane wouldn't be able to stay away from the hospital for long. Coyne, having spoken with the housekeeper before her arrival, had thought the Senator would have preferred to stay in bed, seeing as she had failed to make an appearance earlier in the morning as she was accustomed to. He had bet twenty, so sure of himself, that she would be staying indoors for the day and stay away from the McVeigh girl.

Coyne shook his head, pretending he hadn't just done something unprofessional by betting about his boss but Annie had done a good job roping him into it. He had already paid up James his ten and now he was short thirty dollars. He would best learn now never to bet with the Senior Aide of the Senator's staff.

The girl knew her boss too damned well.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Strike Two**

"I thought the point was to blend in?"

"The coffee cup helps, Senator."

"I certainly hope you're not mistaken about that," the blonde muttered as they entered the lobby of the hospital, for once walking side by side rather than having the man a step behind her. She held her coffee cup casually, appearing to be just another visitor in the hospital, but inside, she was waiting for _something_ to happen, holding her breath without actually meaning to. "But only god knows how you'll continue to do so if you keep addressing me that manner."

"Of course, I apologize…ma'am."

She gave him a brief look before shaking her head slightly, "We'll work on that some other time."

"Yes, ma'am," he barely managed to keep his face neutral as she gave him an accusing look, no doubt thinking he'd done that one on purpose. He had, not that he would ever admit it.

They walked through the large first floor of the hospital and she didn't breathe until they cleared the lobby, stepping into the thankfully empty elevator before pressing for the number of the floor herself. Beside her, Justin Coyne stood with the cup he had used as his cover and defense. He had hesitated to take it from her earlier as she'd stepped out of the car, but she had explained to him he simply had to hold it and pretend to be just like any other person. The cup wasn't for him, but it would certainly help her little foray into the hospital.

Diane Lockhart had dressed down that day, picking something more casual than what she usually. She had hoped it would work, going as far as using minimal makeup and leaving her hair natural. It was decidedly _less_ anchorwoman-worthy, which was a relief for once, considering she didn't have her staff breathing down her neck about how she should appear in photos.

There were no cameras that day, at least she didn't intend for there to be any. She wanted a quiet visit, something just for herself and the girl she hoped would be happy to see her come back. Diane certainly didn't want to disrupt their lives, didn't want to suck them into _her_ world where she knew she could just as easily hurt them and that was the last thing she would ever want to do.

She just wanted to see how Madison was doing really, wish her luck and say goodbye after not being able to the night before. She had enjoyed getting to know the girl, of having someone around so natural, so innocent and _real_. Diane wanted to at least let her know that she had enjoyed every moment she had spent with the girl, barf and all.

_Barf_, Diane smiled to herself, it was definitely not a word she was accustomed to using but she could hear the girl speak it in her head. She was fond of her, that much was clear—she was quite amusing. Thinking about the night before, Diane had been caught in her thoughts, and failed to notice the look she was getting from her companion. Coyne was sure he'd never seen the Senator look like that before.

"Almost there, ma'am," Coyne said after a moment, dark eyes tracking the woman as she straightened up, shifting the cup in her hand and holding on to the small package in her hand just a little bit tighter.

The coffee, Diane decided, was normal. It was the little package in her other hand that was making her just a little nervous. Was it normal? She wanted to give the girl something and wasn't it customary to give little presents to patients. That was alright, wasn't it? To wish her well?

Diane has been on uneven ground too many times in her lifetime, but as far as she could tell, nothing as small as the package in her hand had ever set off her insecurities so quickly before. That's what she was, wasn't she? She was insecure.

She wanted Madison to like her, to at least remember her fondly years down the road. Diane didn't know why, but she did. The girl was special and Diane didn't always have that many opportunities to be around someone like her often and she wanted to give Madison some sort of remembrance. There was nothing weird, nothing sinister, nothing suspicious about that. Just another person caring for someone else because she _did_ care about Madison, even though she'd only spent a brief time with her.

Reaching the floor, the elevator doors opened and Diane almost collided with another person. She gasped, moving her coffee away just in time to avoid dousing herself and the other crash victim.

"Oh! Pardon me! I wasn't watching my—" the flustered woman stopped rattling out her apology and Diane looked up, ready to apologize herself when she saw the look on the woman's face and said simply, "Oh, hello."

Diane managed a ready smile, "Hi…I'm sorry about that. It was my fault, I think, I was preoccupied and—"

"No, no, no," the woman chuckled warmly, "That was all me, honey and I'm sorry. Good move though—I don't have problems removing stain from dresses, but I'm pretty sure my husband's eyes will bug out if I tell him he has to dry clean a designer outfit that doesn't belong in my closet."

"It's nothing," Diane muttered, moving aside the so she was no longer blocking the doors to the elevator, "Here you go."

"Oh, no, honey, uh-uh," the woman laughed, "I'm not getting on that thing now."

Coyne looked at the woman, curious but he remained silent, standing wordlessly beside the Senator who was quickly becoming flustered herself. Her plan _had _been full proof, was she blowing it now because she was busy daydreaming.

"Actually, you came _just_ in time," the woman smiled, "My husband and I were having a little…er, tiff about something and _you_ are just the person to help me further my win."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but actually I'm on my way to visit—"

"I know, I know," the woman placed a hand on her forearm gently, "Come along, I'm sure Mads will be _thrilled_ to see you...er, how would you like me to address you? I'm sure you would prefer a more low-key thing right now…well, I'm guessing because you're trying to look like you wanna blend in with that get up."

Diane let out a breath, "Oh! Are you—?"

"Am I…?" the woman must have realized what she was thinking, "Oh, lordy no, no. You met my husband last night—my Tony? I'm Ethel, his wife."

She couldn't help her eyes lighting up, "You are? Yes, your husband and I met last night. It's wonderful to meet you."

"You too…?" Ethel trailed off uncertainly.

"Diane," she said, "_Please_…?"

"Alright then, _Diane_," she said with a wink.

"I'd shake hands, but…" she held up a small giftwrapped package somewhat meekly.

"Oh, honey, don't worry about that. After last night, I'd let you get away with anything!"

The woman standing in front of her was a good few inches shorter, but her personality made her seem much taller than that. She was beautiful and basing on her accent as well as her features, Diane could easily point out she was Southern. She'd met enough people to find the distinctions and Ethel hit all the markers easy. She was gracious, beautiful and open and Diane welcomed that.

"Well, alright then," Ethel grinned, "Come on and follow me. I believe there's a girl in there who hasn't shut up about you all morning. It's driving my husband nutters and boy, can you tell how much I'm loving that?"

The Senator laughed, perfectly happy to meet someone who was so at ease around her. That was hard to find and clearly, Ethel De Luca knew just exactly how to treat people right. She liked her already.

"Now, don't you worry about those nosey rats following you in here," Ethel said casually as they walked side by side, "You _know _what I'm talking about but that girl and her daddy are family and we're good at keeping each other safe, secrets included."

"I can't say I'm not glad," Diane admitted, glad to know Madison and her father had people in their lives who cared so much for them, "I hope I haven't come at a bad time?"

"No, on the contrary, you came just in time," Ethel smiled, waving a perfectly manicured hand, "They've cleared her to be discharged and we'd all love nothing more than to take Mads home. She'll be so glad to see you dropped by!"

Diane smiled, "Oh, so she's okay then? Nothing serious?"

Ethel shook her head, "Thank goodness no. She's fine…just a bug. She's been eating and having a ball running circles around Tony so we all know she's on a quick mend."

"That's good," Diane said.

"And that's actually thanks to you," the other woman pointed out, "I meant what I said I'd let you get away with anything…I heard what you did so, thank you. Madison does not get sick often but when she does, oh lordy, you watch out."

"It was nothing, believe me."

"A lie, but I like you so I'll let that go too," Ethel winked again just as they reached the door. She turned to see Coyne stopping by the door, "Oh, how rude! I didn't see you there…though god knows why. My, you're big."

Diane couldn't help but laugh, "Ethel, this is Justin Coyne. He's—"

"Kevin Costner, I get it," Ethel nodded, looking him over, "Well, a younger and cuter one, I suppose."

"Right," the Senator laughed again, enjoying the dark shadow that passed over Coyne's features.

"He is delicious!" Ethel laughed, "But alright then. I get what Madison was saying about this being _cool_." She turned to Diane, "She's yet to enter the 'everything sucks' stage of her teenage years so things can still rank cool around her these days."

"She's an exceptional girl," Diane observed, "I'm sure the rest of her teenage years won't be so bad."

"From your lips to god's ears," Ethel sighed, "I've held you back long enough. Come on right in, Diane. Just let me tell you how wonderful it truly is to meet you? I can't imagine having a conversation like this after Madison sees you."

"We can always make time," Diane smiled.

"I think I'll hold you to that," Ethel gave her another warm smile before opening the door.

-o0o-

The door opening easily got everyone's attention.

"Back so soon, Ethy?" De Luca called with a smirk, "Did I marry superwoman or what?"

"Go ahead and keep making a fool of yourself, hubby," Ethel called back, "We've got company."

The three occupants looked up and it was the teen on the bed who first picked up on just who the new visitor was, "Oh, my god! You came back!"

Kurt looked up and found out that, indeed, Diane Lockhart had come back, this time dressed casually in black. He noted the color but didn't think too much on it as he stood up from beside his daughter's bed, a small tentative if not nervous smile on his face while De Luca gaped a little.

"I quite literally bumped into your friend, Mads," Ethel said simply, walking further into the room with Diane in tow. "Had a nice chat too."

"Uh-oh," Tony piped up.

"Darling, put a sock in it," Ethel chirped with mock sweetness, causing Madison and Diane to laugh a little.

"Yes, ma'am," the husband called out obediently with just the same amount of teasing. He eyed the coffee in Diane's hand, "Yo on the joe."

Justin Coyne, who up until then had been blending in the background, gave the cup to Kurt without another word before exiting the room. The Senator managed to give him a thankful smile before turning to the detective with an apologetic and somewhat embarrassed grin.

"I'm sorry," Diane began, biting the inside of her cheek, "I didn't know you were going to be—"

"Ignore that, he was just trying to be funny and boy, was it _bad_," Madison said, then turned to the old detective and smacked the side of her face, "Dude, that one _sucked_."

"Hey! It rhymed!"

"Since when do _you_ say 'yo'?" the girl laughed, "And _dude_, really? You just said _yo_ to a Senator?"

"It fit!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Okay!" Ethel clapped her hands, "And _that_ is our cue to grab our _own_ cup of joe, my darling cheesy husband."

"Et tu, Ethel?"

"Now he's gone Shakespeare," Madison crowed, "Seriously, Big Tony, pick a century already."

"You little—"

"Come on," Ethel grabbed her husband's arm, "Diane, it was lovely to meet you! We'll let you visit Mads here for a bit, alright? While I remind my husband he's Italian, not Shakespeare and definitely_ not _one of those gangsters he always complained about while he was still running the beat."

"Nice to see you again, ma'am," Tony managed to grin at Diane who returned it with just as much amusement.

"Say bye-bye," Ethel said and eventually managed to successfully cart off her husband, leaving the three others in the room laughing to themselves.

"Are they always like that?" Diane asked Madison who nodded eagerly.

"Sometimes worst when it's a special occasion like…4th of July or, you know, their anniversary. But they're loads of fun, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," she smiled then turned to Kurt, "Oh…and I don't know if you've had coffee already but—"

"He hasn't," Madison spoke up, taking the words out of her father's mouth, "Aunt Ethy was just about to get him a cup but she doesn't have to anymore, right?"

"No," Diane smiled, unable to help the warmth that pinked her cheeks. She damned herself for going with light makeup then, knowing it must have been visible and she so hated to blush because _women_ do not blush. Girls maybe but grown women certainly did not.

"And looky," Madison sing-songed, "It's from Dad's coffee place."

"Everyone loves Starbucks," Kurt muttered at his daughter before walking towards Diane, "May I take your, er, coat?"

"Oh, yes, thank you."

Madison smiled proudly as her father took the cups from her hands, noting how she's never seen him quite so shy. Her Dad did _not_ do shy, as far as she thought she knew, but here she was, proven wrong and boy, was it fun to watch. She'd always known her Dad was a gentleman so she could guess his actions precisely. She watched amused as the Senator—no, _Diane_—allowed him to help her out of her coat.

"You can put that here, Dad," Madison suggested, pointing at the foot of her bed. "Just call me your personal coat check for the morning."

Kurt followed and Diane thanked her, reaching for the cups again and handed one to him after he was done.

He took it with a thoughtful smile, "Thanks."

"I owed you," she shrugged, "After last night…I'm sorry about that."

He shook his head, "Wasn't your fault."

"Debatable," she rolled her eyes slightly.

"It wasn't," he said again, meeting her eyes and said quietly, "But I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," she practically whispered.

"I hear it's rude to keep secrets from sick people."

Both adults looked up, catching sight of the patient with a smirk on her face. They looked at each other, laughing before nodding simultaneously as if coming to the same conclusion. Madison motioned for them to sit, waving to the chairs on either side of her. "Sit, sit, sit! I'm ready to get out of here, but I really am glad to see you again."

"I'm glad to see you again too," Diane followed then proceeded to hand her the gift she'd been carrying, "And I brought you something."

Madison beamed, looking at her father before saying, "You didn't have to."

The gift was placed inside a beautiful dusty rose colored box with a silver satin ribbon. Diane handed it to her anyway, smiling as the girl took it carefully with wide eyes. She had expected her to tear through it or, at least, start shaking it but instead, the girl simply stared.

"It's so pretty," Madison smiled crookedly, "But you really didn't have to, I'm just so happy you came back."

Diane smiled, glancing at Kurt who was watching his daughter, "It's nothing big, just something I thought you'd like."

"What's in it?" Madison asked, "Can I open it now or do I have to put it under the tree?"

"It's yours so it's up to you," she winked and didn't mention her surprise as she had expected the girl to tear through the gift to see what was inside. "It's not much, but I thought you might like it."

"Oh, my god!" the girl exclaimed, beaming happily, "Dad, look!"

Madison pulled out a book from the package, wide-eyed and a little slack jawed she turned towards Diane, "But how did…how did you get this? This isn't coming out until next year!"

"I'm friends with the author," she shrugged, "I told him about you and, well, he was kind enough to share."

"Oh, my god, it's signed! It's signed!" Madison turned her father, "Daddy, he signed it! He knows my name!"

"I can see that," he smiled, "What do you say?"

"You," Madison reached for Diane, "Are _amazing._ I mean, seriously, out of this world! Thank you so, so much!"

She barely gave the woman a chance to reply when as soon as she was within range, Madison had managed to grab onto her hand and pull. Despite her bout of illness and deceptive size, she was surprisingly strong and she was easily able to get the tall woman to her level and hugged her tightly. Diane stumbled, but managed to catch herself, hesitating only briefly before returning the hug with just as much affection.

"Thank you, thank you!" Madison said exuberantly as she let go, "I don't even care I'm losing it."

Diane chuckled, managing to compose herself just so, "I'm so glad you like it so much. I wasn't sure—"

"Are you kidding? The last installment was published six months ago. I don't have much time to read but I read his books. He's one of the best writers _ever._"

"I'd have to agree," she smiled, "It's one of the reasons why I was eager to meet him—I was a fan before we were introduced some years ago. He's also a great man."

"I'd bet," Madison grinned, "Even dad reads his stuff."

"Hey, as long as it's not about anarchy or kids getting killed or god knows what, I'm good," Kurt shrugged, "But I won't deny that I do like some of his books."

"Ignore him," Madison smirked, "Thank you for coming…I mean, the present was great, but I'm glad you came back. I was too zonked to stay up last night."

Diane smiled, "You needed rest so I won't hold that against you."

The young girl smiled, "Well, gee, thanks then, Senator."

"You really like saying that word, don't you?"

"What? Senator?"

The older woman gave her a knowing look.

"You gotta admit, it's pretty cool."

"It really isn't," Diane shrugged.

"Well, I think it's cool," Madison wagged her eyebrows, "I'm sure it kinda sucks to you—"

Kurt resisted the urge to cover his face, "Mad…"

While at the same time Diane managed an honest, "Sometimes."

"See?" the girl gave her father a look, "She admits to sometimes."

"This is my fault, you know?" Kurt turned to Diane, "I taught her how to walk and talk, what I wouldn't give to see her diapered butt wobbling around and drooling while she babbled."

"Oh, god, thanks for the image, _dad_," the embarrassed girl muttered then gave Diane a look, "Can't you make parents embarrassing their kids illegal or something?"

"I'll see what I can do when we get back in session next time," Diane grinned.

"Add something that says parents will be hung by their toes if they break the law or something."

"Well, I don't know about that, but I'll try."

Kurt pretended to scowl, "Gee, thanks, Mads, you just turned a Senator against your own father."

"I'm so cool, right?"

"Nah, you're kinda mean."

"You gotta get to know me."

"Oh, I do and I have, that's why I know you're mean."

Madison turned to Diane again, "Honest to god right now, who's being mean to who?"

"I think I'll stay out of this one," she smirked, "I think the neutral zone is safer at this point."

"Is this being wimpy? Because that's not really at all dignified."

"Madison!" her father admonished while the woman he feared his daughter offended simply laughed. He stopped and instead, turned to Diane, catching the slight tinge of pink on her cheeks caused by her mirth. He smiled a little, unable to help himself finding her incredibly soft and attractive in that moment.

"I could start a war, I think," Madison said, not missing the way her father was looking at her new friend and decided she didn't mind, "If I ever become like you or, you know, a diplomat."

Diane chuckled, "I think you could."

Madison nodded, "I could. But really, I have more self-control. I love this country and therefore, I won't."

"Are you rethinking some life choices now?" Diane asked, "Think politics might interest you?"

The girl looked at her father, catching him just as he rolled his eyes, "Oh, yeah, that'll be something." She snorted, "I'll be one of the few Democrats he'll ever have voted for."

"What makes you think I'll be voting for you?"

"Now, see why I'm such a smartass?" Madison turned to Diane.

"Madison, language!"

"Did I mention that's my ringtone for him?"

The Senator was slowly getting used to the pace of the two, but could not help but laugh more. They were a pretty good team, very much like a good comedic duo and she liked that Madison was so quick and witty while being so young. She often forgot the girl's age.

"And he did, you know," Madison smiled at Diane, "Vote for you, I mean."

"Well, thank you," she smiled at him before turning to his daughter, "Your father is a Republican, but you're saying if you run, you'll be a Democrat?"

"I like donkeys," the girl said, completely deadpan then giggled after a beat, "I'm kidding. I'm kidding. But yep, I am a Democrat and not just so I can screw with my dad."

"Don't say screw, Madison," her father said automatically, earning an eye-roll from the girl.

"It's so easy for them, isn't it? Parents," the girl grumbled, "But yeah, Dad and I come down differently on a lot of things."

"I can imagine," Diane smiled, "But as long as you agree to disagree—"

There was a gentle knock on the door and all three turned just as it opened and Annie peeked her head in, "Senator? Mr. Gardner is on the phone. He said you forgot to call him back."

"Right," Diane said, flinching a little, "It completely slipped my mind…I," she turned to Madison, "Would you excuse me for a moment? I'm afraid missing another from this person…well, suffice to say, I'm going to be in trouble."

Both McVeighs allowed it and didn't seem to mind, watching as she stood and followed Annie out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Madison was on her phone, tap-tapping away like the pro she had become handling her new gadget.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking."

"For what?"

"Hm, stuff," she shrugged.

"Madison Rose McVeigh."

"Just Googling, dad," she rolled her eyes slightly, "Just to see if I can find a Mr. Gardner online—"

"Madison!"

"Hey, I'm curious!"

"That is none of your business, young lady, put that phone down."

"Oh, come on, dad, I'm just looking," she grinned at him, "Besides, if he's competition, we gotta see how you can kick his butt."

"Excuse me? What are you talking about?"

"I saw you looking at her, dad," the girl said, completely serious though her tone remained light, "She's pretty and she's the only Democrat you voted for. That's big already. Besides, she's really nice and I like her."

"You only met her."

"Yeah, and I already really like her, what does that tell you?"

"Trouble."

She laughed, "I love you too, dad."

-o0o-

"Will? Yes, it's me."

"I'm sorry I missed your calls," Diane leaned back against the wall, phone pressed to her ear, "No, I got in last night…actually, I'm at the other house…yes, that one…tonight? I don't know…I can't promise but—"

Annie watched from the corner of her eye, her boss obviously not entirely immersed in the conversation.

"No, not family," Diane replied then paused, the reality of the situation hitting her just then.

She wasn't family, nor was she even a long enough friend to be hanging around like this. She had no reason to stay, at least, not really. She had already spoken with Dr. Danforth who had personally updated her on Madison's condition. She was free to go home and should, in fact, have been allowed to leave earlier in the morning. But she knew this was Liz's way of something currying out a favor for her, giving the McVeighs a kind of leeway not most patients were granted. Diane suspected correctly that was because they'd come in with her. But everything was good now, Madison had been cleared and was ready to go home. In fact, hadn't Ethel De Luca told her they were on their way out?

Feeling suddenly out of place, Diane felt that she was somehow intruding on the family. She had no business there and she was now uncomfortable with the possibility she might be keeping them from going back home where Madison would be more comfortable.

"Oh, Will? Yes, I'm still here. I'm sorry. You know what?" she said, straightening up and trying hard to wash away the feeling of remorse that suddenly engulfed her, not for basically ignoring the man on the other line, but for her thoughtlessness with regards to the father and daughter in the room she stood just outside of, "How about tonight? Annie will make the reservation…same place, same time? Great. I'll see you then."

She hung up and turned to Annie who simply nodded and took her own phone out and reluctantly made the reservations she needed. She spotted Coyne in the corner and summoned him and told him about the schedule for tonight. He would confer with her team and they'd take care of the rest and as she made her way back inside, the two shared a look, which she missed.

Once the door was closed, Annie turned to their constant companion, "What do you think?"

"What?"

"Mr. Gardner tonight?"

He shrugged, "Won't be the first time."

"But what about…well, this," she motioned towards the door.

The agent straightened up, "I'd prefer not to discuss the Senator's personal life."

"What a cop out!" Annie accused.

Justin Coyne shrugged. He hadn't been around the Senator for long yet and wouldn't presume to know what made the woman's mind tick. He got his orders and he would carry them out—what she did, as long as she didn't get herself killed, was none of his business.

Annie, on the other hand, couldn't share those views, "Something's changed."

Coyne looked at the closed door and decided while he might prefer not to make assumptions, found himself agreeing anyway, "Yeah."

Then he left, returning to his post and leaving the young aide to think about her boss' decisions in peace.

-o0o-

"Yeah, I'm coming back to school tomorrow! You'll tell me, you promise?"

Diane smiled, not missing the eagerness in the girl's voice as she spoke on the phone. Beside her, her father sat reading a book, the coffee she'd bought him in hand and seemingly unaffected by the chatter. It was seemed so natural, devoid of any pretension that told her somehow, this scene was not any way out of the ordinary for the two.

And like the feelings Will Gardner's phone call had stirred only moments prior, she couldn't help but feel she was barging in on something she had no right doing so. She covered the negative feelings with a smile though, all too experienced at putting on such masks. The game of politics had a few simple rules and one of them was definitely _never_ let 'em see you sweat.

"Hey, hold on, Mandy, I gotta go…no, that's not it. Ew! I'll call you later, 'kay? Bye!"

Madison gave her a wide smile, "You in trouble yet?"

"Nope," she smiled, taking the seat she had vacated, "Missing school today?"

"Mhm," she nodded, "Not that I mind…but stuff happened while I was in DC. Nothing big but it's pretty interesting…just school stuff. Hey, dad's playing hookey too."

Diane gave him a look, "Really?"

"Court," he mumbled, "Doing it later in the afternoon."

She nodded, "Of course."

"The law waits for no man," Madison piped in then cringed, "Man, that sucked. I think I'm coming down with a case of Big Tony."

Diane chuckled, "We're allowed to blow a joke now and then."

"A senator just said blow," the girl snorted, "That's one for the books."

Just then, the door opened once again, this time bringing back the De Luca couple who seemed caught up in their conversation.

"And I'm saying you're being an idiot," Ethel said, slapping her husband on the arm slightly before catching Diane's eye. "Oh! Hello! Excuse my husband. He's being, well—"

"An idiot?"

"Madison!" Kurt said at the same time as Ethel's cheery, "Exactly!"

"What did you do this time, Big Tony?"

"Flatten a kid who called me Big Tony."

Ethel rolled her eyes, leaving her husband and went to Kurt's side of his daughter's bed, dropping a kiss on Madison's head and began to fluff her pillows. It was so natural, so maternal that Diane felt the oddest stirrings in her yet again only this time it was different. She had to look away and concentrate on the woman's husband to avoid looking at Ethel with the young girl.

She silently damned that proverbial biological clock all women seemed to be equipped with. She wasn't maternal, or at least, didn't consider herself as one. She'd always been a career-woman, the kind that was more used to dealing with the hustle and bustle of the fast-paced career lifestyle than its Susie-homemaker counterpart. Sure she and Stephen had considered having children at some point, but it had not been priority one then. She liked kids alright and she imagined had it happened for them, she would have accepted her role as a mother as much she would any career, but since that never happened, she didn't contemplate on it much.

But seeing Ethel move so easily with Madison made her feel something inside though. Maybe it was wistfulness for what could have been. Maybe she was feeling sentimental—the holidays had a knack for doing that to her, she decided once more—or maybe it was just the odd feeling of being out of place again. She really was a stranger to these people and it was contrasted even more now by the animated way Madison interacted with her Big Tony, Ethel's natural way with her and Kurt's booming laugh at what his best friend just said.

These people were family and somehow, the more Diane hung around them, the more it all seemed to chip at her walls. And she didn't like it. Did she really just meet them all less than 24 hours ago? It felt longer. And while she enjoyed being around them and they seemed to effortlessly welcome her into their little group, she couldn't help but feel even more of an intruder now. She felt they were genuinely welcoming her but then, maybe that only compounded her feelings more. Somehow, the kinder they seemed, the more wrong she felt.

And once more since the phone call, Diane wondered what she was doing there to begin with.

"Senator? Diane? Hello?"

Unaware she'd lost herself in her thoughts, she found the group of people looking at her and she couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Her cheeks pinked once more, turning towards Madison who, it seemed, had been trying to get her attention for some time already, "I'm sorry. Yes?"

The girl gave her an easy grin, "You left the planet for a minute there."

"I'm sorry," she let out a nervous laugh, "I was just…thinking."

"Yeah? What about?"

"Mads," her father said carefully.

"I'm a snoop," she admitted then beamed, "They're springing me from this joint."

"Really?" Diane sounded surprised, even though she'd known of this herself already, "That's great."

"Yeah, but…" the girl looked troubled then, glancing at her father then at Ethel who moved towards the other end of the room silently to clean up the remnants of the meal she'd brought.

"What's wrong, Mads?" Diane asked, gently.

"Well," for the first time since meeting her, the teen looked unsure. "I know you're busy and all…does this mean I'll never see you again?"

Diane smiled, unable to help feeling touched by the openness of the girl's emotions. For a moment, she did feel that the girl might actually miss her after this, "Oh, I don't know…someone told me they thought my job was actually cool."

"It is, it is!" the girl insisted.

"I don't meet many people like that," she shrugged absently, "So, I thought, since you're not holding my job against me…"

The quick witted-girl didn't need to have a map drawn for her, evidently, as her eyes lit up, "Seriously? I'll see you again? Not just on TV?!"

"I hope so."

Diane almost didn't catch the girl as she scrambled off the bed, kicking the covers off and jostling the recently fluffed pillows and launched herself at her. She stood just in time and Madison's arms slipped around her waist in a tight hug.

"Good! Because I'm really glad I met you," Madison said happily, "You're one of the coolest people I know, I'd hate not to see you again!"

"I'm glad I met you too," Diane said and meaning every word of it, squeezing the girl gently.

Madison smiled, then moved closer to her ear and whispered, "And you know what? I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who's glad. And I'm not talking about Big Tony!"

And as quickly as she jumped at the woman, she moved back, plopping herself back on the bed and gave Diane a winning smile before allowing her father to throw the covers up on her again. The other adults in the room watched as the thirteen-year-old and the Senator looked at each other, sharing a secret smile that surely had something to do with whatever she may have said to the woman.

The rest of the visit, along with the remained of Madison's short stay in the hospital, was spent in chatters led by the girl with the topics ranging from school to the different kinds of celebrities the Senator may have met already and everything else under the sun.

Well, everything but politics, at least.

And for the first time in a long time, Senator Diane Lockhart felt like she truly was just another person in the world. She felt normal, felt how she used to feel back when she wasn't in politics yet—thought god knows that feels like eons ago—when she could sit down with friends who didn't have to worry about saying something wrong in her presence or what she was allowed and wasn't allowed to say or god knew what else. She hadn't felt like she was simply Diane in such a long time and it was as if she was remembering a part of herself she had forgotten a long time ago.

She had no idea until then just how much she missed that feeling.

And as much as she tried, she couldn't make herself forget it now.

-o0o-

"You sure you won't reconsider lunch?"

They were both walking down the hall leading to the back of the hospital. Madison's papers had been cleared already and they were set to go home. Annie had been coming in and out of the room, fielding calls that had suddenly started coming and Diane decided that was her cue to leave. As if conspiring just to get her goat that day, it seemed some interested parties were deciding today was a good day to bother her about a coming vote the committees were fighting over for when the Senate came back to session.

Diane gave him a wry smile, "I would, but somehow, people seem to keep forgetting we're supposed to be taking a break."

"Mr. Gardner?"

"How do—" she stopped, remembering he'd been there when she had taken the call, "No, no. I rescheduled with him. I'm more caught up between Senators Lilianfield and Berryhill right now." She rolled her eyes slightly, "Apparently, my being junior Senator entitles them to some, er, access to my line, regardless of what time or when."

"I hear the vote on—"

"Mhm," she nodded, "It's nothing covert or anything, you'll hear about it. But, you know, gathering votes and all. Senator Cashman is already knocking down doors."

"And Lilianfield is trying to get to you first," he'd obviously been following the last week's news cycle.

"Yes," she nodded, "Never thought I'd object to three men cluttering my phone lines, but here I am. Two seconds from clobbering them myself." She paused, "Though in my defense, these men are _at least_ well over a decade my senior."

"Maybe you should tell Madison about this after all," Kurt smirked, "Show her the 'sucky side', as she calls it, of the job."

"I might," Diane nodded, "You shouldn't worry though. She's an exceptional child."

"Yeah, she is," he nodded. "So, Senate won't be in session until after Christmas…"

Diane nodded, "Mhm…and then another break for the New Year then we go back in January. Although the White House won't be taking a break. We're fielding and I still have the, well, _the thing_, I'm sure you've heard since Madison knows as well."

"Yeah," he nodded, "Quite a leap for a junior Senator."

She nodded, "So I've been told."

"You know everyone's still wondering why anyone would turn down the Vice President position."

That little piece of her road to the Senate had somehow leaked and while the flurry of the press had died down, apparently, the curiosity hadn't. At least, not among the people which Diane found a little irksome at times since she found that to be a non-story.

Diane barely gave him a look though, "It's a short, dull story…and do you have any idea how odd it is for me discussing such things with a Republican?"

He chuckled, "I was wondering when you'd bring that up."

"I was waiting," she smirked then sighed, "I'd rather not talk about politics though."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he looked sheepish, "But since you turned down lunch, I was wondering if Mr. Gardner doesn't mind—"

She smiled, "He won't but before anything, I was wondering about something…"

"Yeah?"

"I've got a few things to do while I'm in town," she glanced behind her to see Annie and Coyne keeping a respectful distance.

It had been a while since she found herself able to walk next to a man who didn't want something from her just because she held a particular position or simply wanted to be with her to be _seen_ with her. It was refreshing and she was surprised she really liked feeling his hand on the small of her back as they walked.

The last time a man did that, as far as she could remember, they were either fellow Senators or agents trying to make sure she didn't stumble as they led her around. Having Kurt McVeigh stand so closely by her side like that sent a feeling down her spine, one that was not at all unwelcome.

She stopped not too far from the doors where already she could spot one agent in a dark suit, standing by and decided it was now or never for her.

"I'm going to be seeing a few friends, visiting a few events, but," she looked at Kurt, standing in front of him and suddenly feeling quite silly, "I have a free night coming up. I was wondering if you'd like to join me?"

For a moment, Kurt seemed surprised which he covered quickly by ducking his head slightly and grinning at her, "I'm not the suit and tie kinda guy. Except for court, but that's a requirement."

"I really don't care what you wear," she admitted.

"Can't do fancy restaurants either."

She smiled, "I also do not care where we eat."

"You sure about that?"

"Give me the night and I'll cancel whatever there might be," she smirked. "Are you going to turn me down?"

"Well, after that kind of offer…"

He took a step towards her and, without hesitation, lifted his hand and brushed a lock of hair from her face. She smiled, taking a step closer as well as his hand moved lower and he placed it on her cheek. She leaned in to his touch, her hand falling on his shoulder just like the way it did the night before only this time, she didn't hesitate to let her fingers curl slightly on the fabric of his coat. She allowed his hand to frame her face and her eyes fluttered close as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Hey!"

The sharp voice stopped them, but it was the flash of a camera that had them jumping apart. By sheer instinct, Kurt moved in front of her with Coyne merely a second or so behind. The agent barked at the group of photographers that seemed to come out from nowhere, clicking away and firing questions at the Senator who was being shielded by both her agent and a man nobody knew.

"Step back!" Coyne commanded while at the same time called the rest of his team. It didn't take long before they arrived, pushing through the crowd of cameras.

Annie surged forward, moving in front and saying in an even but firm voice the Senator was not there in a professional capacity. She joined in telling them to move back, but as was the nature of the beast, the hounds merely kept taking more pictures, hurtling question after question, including who the man with the Senator was and demanding for his name.

The press had come when someone had let slip they'd once again seen the Senator in the hospital. The night before had brought them nothing in terms of proof of her presence but with this, they finally had it. They were out to get any information they could, including a possible way to verify the rumors that Senator Diane Lockhart of Illinois was in the short list of names to fill a spot that had yet been vacated weeks prior by the sudden unfortunate passing of a certain political ally of the President's.

It meant that the Senator, following her monumental win during the elections, was slated to play an even bigger part in the administration. It came as no surprise that she was being considered, especially since it came out she had turned down the opportunity to be the running mate of the President and as well as her strong political ties with various members of her party.

Diane Lockhart was good at fostering relationships and she was a good political candidate, a proud Democrat who also carried that certain charm and appeal that had even some members of the right begrudgingly accepting her. She was a good candidate, attractive not just in terms of her history and appeal but as well as in the way she seemed to easily form ties and bonds with people she met. There was no hint of scandal to her, no hint of dirt that could topple her should she choose to pursue more in the political arena. She was the rare odd duck that truly had nothing to hide.

So, to say that the party had high hopes, plans and priorities for her was, in itself, an understatement.

But the press had stumbled on something now and they knew it, meaning this was more than just about the rumors of the vacant position now from the way Coyne and his team did their job, covering Diane as they made their way through to the exit where they were originally headed. The car was there waiting already and with Annie heading them off, they were getting through the crowd easier. And without even a backwards glance, they pushed the Senator into the car and drove off, leaving the cameras behind.

And as well as the prone form of Kurt McVeigh who immediately retreated back further into the hospital, taking his chance to bolt when the attentions of the voracious members of the press were still trying to catch the Senator. He slipped away, barely catching a glance of the speeding town car before heading up back to his daughter's room.

There was no question at all now—they needed to get out of the hospital as soon as possible. After that display, Kurt McVeigh wasn't going to let those animals near his daughter.

And so with his focus returning to his Madison, his mind altogether dropped the plans he'd been making with Diane Lockhart then. In the midst of the sudden descent of the media vultures, Kurt's mind retreated back as much as his body did, deciding that after such an interruption, he could not imagine how they were ever going to keep those plans. It was the reality check he needed—what was he thinking? A Senator? Him? Not to mention what this could do not only to his privacy but as well as Madison's.

Stepping back onto his daughter's floor, Kurt McVeigh dropped the matter from his mind as well as altogether. He had his life, he had his daughter and as much as he enjoyed being in the company of Diane Lockhart, he could not imagine how the fantasy he had been so foolishly entertaining for a second there was even possible, not without risking his personal life and family.

Diane had been lovely, incredibly so, but Kurt was in touch with reality enough to know he was definitely not the kind of man she could truly want. She was out of his league and he knew he couldn't let himself be responsible for wreaking havoc in her life. She was better off without him.

And as much as he hated having their moment be interrupted for the second time, he couldn't help but feel grateful. Twice in less than twelve hours had to be a sign now, right? They were better off, he thought. They had different lives, too different, unfortunately and as happy as Madison felt having her around, Kurt knew this wouldn't have always been the case, had they been able to keep whatever they were considering going.

Resisting the urge to smack himself, Kurt stopped at his daughter's door. Time to step back into his life—the life he had been happily living before Diane Lockhart came along. And as much as he was beginning to feel the pangs of regret, he forced himself to believe this was indeed for the best.

Life was complicated enough, he wasn't going to add to Diane Lockhart's by bungling along through hers. He imagined she had enough complications in her life to keep her going. To be a source of more stress, more problems and conflict were definitely something he did not want become, especially not to someone so gracious and kind like Diane.

After all, it was the least he could do after what she'd done for them. He wasn't blind to her kindness, to everything she shared with them, mere strangers she'd merely bumped into an airport by sheer chance. It was only right he returned the favor somehow.

Even if it meant never seeing her again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Hide and Seek**

"You're sure this is necessary?"

"I'm having a few people check out the place, just to make sure."

"Tony, really, I think this is a bit much. I'm sure you and Ethel—"

"Oh, don't you _dare_ include _me_ in your excuses, _Mr. _McVeigh," came the sharp but playful reprimand from the entryway of the De Luca's living room. Ethel stood there with two glasses of juice, an arched eyebrow aimed at her husband's old friend. "Ya'll are gonna stay here until my husband says so. You hear me? I am not about to let you or that child get caught in some stupid two-ring circus just cause a bunch of nosey-do-nothing-chicken-shit-so-called-journalist s can't understand the very basic form of decency."

Kurt turned towards his friend, expecting some form of help but Tony merely shrugged and received the glass his wife handed him and shrugged in his direction. He placed a quick kiss in the center of her palm before saying, "I'd listen. Ain't no use arguin' with Miss Ethel while she's got her dander up."

"It really is sick, what those people will stoop too," Ethel continued, not even giving Kurt a chance to reply as she handed him his drink and sat down next to him. "With the night you just had and that woman just trying to be a good person, why, it's outrageous! My god! Vultures! Pigs! Pond scum!"

Tony grinned at Kurt, obviously proud of his errant wife as she railed against the press. He loved it whenever she was in full-protective Mama Bear mode. She only ever got like that for family and at the moment, her main concern was Madison.

"It won't take much time, but I want to make sure at least," Tony said, "I've got one of the new kids out there, checking out the area, just to make sure no one's snooping. Pretty sure we kept a lid on you two at the hospital…but with money _and _technology these days? You never know."

Kurt nodded, conceding, "Yeah."

"The press are more vicious than ever and, well, you might just possibly get linked with someone they're very interested with these days," Tony shrugged, "With the appointment and the confirmation close enough to make the rumors seem like the real thing…they're just ready to latch on the first thing they can clamp their hungry jaws around. I don't want you and Madison getting caught up in that kinda feedin' frenzy."

"Yeah, I get it, I do," Kurt nodded.

"Good. So you sit your butt down there, alright?" Ethel interjected, smiling warmly now as she turned towards Kurt again, her anger seemingly out of her system for the moment. "I have Madison set up in the guest room and she's talking to a few friends of hers. Tony will get everything sorted out and we make sure before anything, alright?"

Kurt looked at Tony who nodded at him, raising his glass in a mock toast, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good," Ethel beamed and promptly stood up, "Now, how does chicken sound for lunch?"

Both men merely looked at the woman before promptly returning to their drinks.

"Alright then, I'm taking that as a yes," Ethel beamed before buzzing out of the room and went straight into her kitchen.

"She could cook rocks and I'd still eat it," Kurt muttered, "Your wife can be scary when she wants to."

His friend smirked, tilting his glass sideways and gave his friend a wink, "Scary? Try terrifying and you're just about there, my friend."

They both raised their glasses in another mock toast and laughed as old friends did.

Because, really, what could one do when faced with the formidable force that was Ethel Grace De Luca?

-o0o-

Marissa Gold knew her father had a temper.

And while that might have frightened her at one point or another when she was younger—was she ever that young, _really?_—it did nothing to faze her now. In fact, her father's temper was one of the things she found to be the funniest things. Her father was hilarious when he was angry so therefore, she often did a lot of things just to see his face contort in the most amusing ways.

"How could you not call me sooner? What were you thinking?"

So, of course, if such a thing as someone _else_ pissing off her father occurred, she did what she could to watch. She didn't even mind if she got caught in the crossfire because as much as she loved her father, his being angry really was quite enjoyable so fanning that particular flame was not much of a bother for her.

"You _think_? How was this even possible? How could you let her go? And how the hell do you lose a grown woman? She didn't just fucking ride a bus to Arizona, for god's sakes!"

Marissa smothered the laugh that threatened to bubble up then, sitting back against the couch and watching her father pace just outside the living room. Oh, he was _livid_ and this particular exhibition of rage was turning his face the most interesting color. She was beginning to think that for the first time, she was actually seeing the color puce in person _on a person_. It was always one of those colors she didn't really have an idea what looked like after hearing about it so many times—she made a mental note to tell him it suited him very well.

"Find her! I'm coming there _now_ but you better find her! Damn it, how the hell did this happen?"

She didn't have to ask what was going on or at least, who was the cause of this tirade. Obviously, Diane Lockhart had pulled some kind of disappearing act. If not that, then somehow, she was making sure Marissa's father wouldn't be able to reach her. She wondered why, but wasn't surprised. It had happened before and it was likely to happen again in the future. Her father tended to come on too strong, even for the formidable Senator that sometimes, she sought for some space on her own.

And being the daughter of the almighty force that is Eli Gold, Marissa understood, she really did. After all, Diane's privacy, whatever of it may have been left if there ever was any to begin with, had been blown right out of the water in the span of just the past few months and being stuck with Eli Gold on a daily basis had to suck sometimes, right?

Marissa loved her father to pieces, but god, could he be a pain in the ass if he felt like it—hence the whole button-pushing habit she started to form at the age of seven. It was ingrained in her DNA.

The last time Diane had gone AWOL, Marissa knew father had driven around the city before ending up in church. She was pretty sure he yelled in there too, but she hadn't been able to confirm since even trusty Annie—who she could almost always make talk—wouldn't fess up.

Marissa just knew her father well enough to not put screaming in the house of Big Ole' G-O-D past her dear old dad. After all, Diane had been rethinking running for the Senate when Eli already laid out the battle plans he'd been working on for months. Her father would have ripped his hair out if the Senator _did_ back out, which she almost did.

And again, Marissa didn't blame the woman for thinking twice because politics was shit and democracy was a joke. At least, the status of it at the moment was, in Marissa's opinion. Even she knew being a governor was one thing, to join the Senate was a whole other ballgame—and that wasn't even counting the somewhat unexpected impact Diane had on the public when she formally announced her intention to run.

"I don't give a rat's _ass_ what she said, I'm coming and you better have answers for me or heads _will _roll!" Eli snarled into the phone before slamming it on the table. She knew there was a time he would have thrown it across the room, but these days he seemed to be actually trying to be less volatile. Trying, of course, being the operative word, but at least he _was_.

Her father stood with his back facing her and she saw his shoulders lift once, twice then three times, breathing in deeply and slowly exhaling. He was reining in his temper, that much was clear, and she smiled though this time not just entirely out of amusement—he was trying to make sure not to misdirect his anger at her by keeping himself as relaxed as he possibly could, which was nearly impossible but she appreciated the effort. It was the holidays and obviously, both of them had the same idea in mind to try and be as nice to each other as possible. Weird, yes, but she decided he was doing some long overdue growing up, which meant he wasn't entirely that big of a lost cause.

She thought maybe she could do a bit of that too, you know, in a temporary basis.

"Everything alright, dad?" she asked after a moment, deciding he'd had enough quiet time already. She was _dying_ to know what was going on.

"Just…issues with the Senator and Mr. Coyne's team," Eli faced his daughter with the most composed expression he could muster, his jaw tense but his demeanor casual as he walked back into the living room.

"Ooh, cute guys with guns," Marissa smirked, "Is Diane missing?"

"Not missing…_per se_," Eli shook his head, sitting himself down next to her and reaching for the laptop he'd left on the coffee table. He didn't say much else as he pulled up a few websites easily, window after window popping up on screen.

"Whoa, is that the Senator?" Marissa sat forward, intrigued now as she saw photos of Diane Lockhart appearing in some windows.

It was not unusual to see Diane on the Internet, at least, not to Marissa Gold. But seeing the older woman with a man in the photos in what she could easily surmise as a somewhat intimate moment, was an altogether different matter. She had never seen anyone get that close to Diane, at least in _that_ kind of situation, whatever it might actually be.

Seeing was believing, yes, but even then Marissa could not entirely believe what she was seeing. Was Diane actually leaning in to kiss that man? And who in the world was he because she was sure she'd never seen him before. The woman did not date—as far as she knew, at least—so who had she been caught with?

Marissa whistled, "Is that real or fake?"

"It's real," her father muttered, glaring at the screen, "But it's getting up on sites people don't easily trust—it's likely to take the legitimate press half an hour _at least_ to join the party. They're going to try and confirm this."

"Well, aren't they responsible," Marissa said with a sarcastic edge in her voice that matched her eyeroll perfectly, "He's kinda cute…in a silver fox kinda way."

Her father shot her a look, "Marissa, please!"

"What? I'm just saying she could do worse," she shrugged, completely unaffected, "So, this is what you're having a nutty about? She got caught kissing her boyfriend? Oh, and when did _that_ happen? Not that it's a bad thing, I mean, it's about time, right? How long has it been since her husband…?"

Marissa liked Diane and she was one of the few people she truly liked in a way that included the subtlest form of protection, which included her avoiding using the words 'dead' in relation to her husband. It was a long time ago and the woman was definitely okay now, but that didn't mean she stopped missing him or stopped hurting over the loss, no matter how bravely or perfectly she hid it all inside. Marissa understood that.

"It doesn't matter because that is not her boyfriend," Eli replied, "He's just some guy she met on the plane last night and—"

"She picked up a guy? _Whoa._ Go Diane!"

"No! _Not _go Diane and there was _no_ picking up," her father practically popped a vein correcting her, "His daughter got sick, Diane helped out and now, the shit has hit the fan. Of course."

"His kid? He's got a kid who got sick…on the plane?"

"Yes, threw up all over Diane," Eli didn't hide his disgust, remembering the soiled dress _and_ shoes.

"Ew, that is sick," Marissa made a face, "I would have thrown a fit."

"Well, she didn't…anyway, it's just…a misunderstanding," he muttered, "And I would clear it up if she'll stop playing fucking hide and seek with me so we can deal with this."

"You're going to her place? Can I come?" Marissa liked hanging out with Diane, which wasn't often, considering her work and the fact that she spent most of her time in DC now but the teenager was willing to take what she could get.

Eli nodded, slamming the lid of the laptop shut as he got up, "Yes, but we're heading to her other house."

"The other house?" she echoed, completely surprised, "I've never been there before. What's up with that? What's going on?"

"I don't know," her father replied, "But I'm going to find out."

Marissa grabbed her things, following her father out as he went. She'd never quite gotten the _full_ inside story about Diane Lockhart's private life. She knew what most people knew, what her father controlled getting to the press and that was mostly due to the respect she bore for the older woman. Respect and affection, that is. She was cool for a politician and as well as an adult.

But then, she was getting inside the home Diane had shared with her husband, the whole other life that she and as well as Marissa's father, protected at all costs. It was not a subject that people were easily allowed access to and it was not something you could easily get Diane to talk about. Lord knew Barbara Walters already gave it a good try in the few interviews she'd managed to get but every time she tried to tread onto that territory, Diane's defenses just rose astronomically each time.

So to get the chance not only to see her and as well as get a look inside the house Marissa had only seen in photos, she couldn't help the slight excitement she felt. It could be a lot less interesting that what she had in mind, but she was eager to get a looksee anyway. This was the other side of the woman she greatly admired, after all, and Marissa really did enjoy getting to know her.

Grabbing her things and her father's laptop, Marissa followed her father out the door, happy to be allowed out of the house and the prospect of seeing the Senator again. She could not expect to be allowed that much access to the situation, but Marissa was content to watch and observe anyway. She'd learned long ago you pick up a hell of a lot of things if you learned when sit down and shut up and she'd been living by this particular understanding for a long time now—and it had yet to fail her.

Somehow, there was a part of her that just knew things were definitely getting really interesting. That, and the fit her father threw over the phone wasn't going to be the last. Something had shifted and the teenager could _feel_ it, she just could, and it made her a little—okay, okay, a _lot_—giddy inside.

And it wasn't just the prospect of watching her dad throw one fantastic fit after another, nope. It was _something_ else. Marissa just knew.

She grinned, buckling herself up on the passenger's seat with a grin she hid from her father. Never before had she been so glad to have her mother break a lunch date with her. She hated missing things—especially ones that she was just so sure were going to be _huge_.

Oh, how Marissa _loved_ the holidays.

-o0o-

It was great what technology could do these days.

And considering she was a child of the current age, Madison McVeigh let herself appreciate this fact even though she had only the faintest idea of what life might have been like before, without cellphones and the internet. She'd been grounded before—totally not her fault—and had experience such a hardship and she was a quick learner so being without her beloved phone and quick access to her friends? It sucks big time.

Therefore, Madison was very grateful of her grandparent's gift and Skype.

"Where are you? I thought you'd be at your house by now."

"Just something with my dad," she shrugged, leaning back against the wall of the De Luca's guest room that she often occupied. "He's going out later to court but I'll probably stick around here."

"You're really not coming today? God, Mads, you're so lucky!" Mandy sighed as she sat inside the girl's bathroom at their school. "Vacation _and _getting sick? You're getting an early break!"

Madison smirked, "Yeah, right! Can you imagine how I'm going to catch up? You _know _they'll just pile it on me, waiting until I get back!"

"It's not like you won't get through it," Mandy pointed out, "I mean, you're smart and all. Oh! Wait! Did I tell you about Lisa Franks being sent home?"

"Lisa? Are you kidding?" Lisa was their all around Golden Girl and she _never _missed school. Not even when she had a crazy fever that a couple of their classmates caught. Straight As with all the extracurricular under her belt she could handle, the girl was the definition of the classic overachiever.

"Yeah, Caitlin told Neesa who told Grace who told _me_ Becca totally saw the whole thing!" Mandy had that giddiness about her that girls usually got when sharing gossip that was just too good to _not _tell, "Anyway, Becca said Lisa was having a _major freak out_ at her locker about, well, whatever, when Miss Henderson—the bio teacher—stopped and asked her what was wrong."

"What was she freaking about?" Mandy asked, curious. Lisa was also usually quiet, unless they were in class and her hand was shooting up the air answering all the questions. She can't even remember if she'd ever heard the girl raise her voice outside a pep rally.

"Don't know, but when Miss Henderson asked her, she just _lost it_," Mandy giggled, "I mean, _totally_ lost it right there. You know Becca's locker is, like, four doors down, right? Anyway, everything started flying out of her locker and Becca told Caitlin she just started whaling on poor Miss Henderson right there."

"Wow, are you sure? I mean, it's _Lisa_…" Madison wrinkled her nose.

"Totally," Mandy said, "It's the nervous breakdown everyone knew was inevitable although honestly? I had her pegged for, like, Senior year or something. You know, like the usual? I had my money on blonde streaks and going all Lezzie Lohan or something."

"Oh, god," Madison laughed, "Mandy, that's mean!"

"What? It's true! That girl was heading straight for a burn out! She's always so peppy and perfect and brainy," Mandy shuddered, "I mean, seriously, there is such thing as being too perfect and that's a hard act to maintain. Anyway, it's probably good for her, having it happen now…if she waited until Senior year, she'd probably have blown her chances with Yale or something."

"Harvard," Madison correct, "Her mom and dad both went there."

"Yeah, one of those places my parents are hoping I'll flunk my way into," Mandy smirked, "Anyway, so what's up with you? That thing we're not supposed to talk about from last night still going?"

"I think so," Madison hummed, "She dropped by this morning and she gave me a book and we talked. Mandy, she's _really_ cool…"

"And?" her friend drawled out, "Come on, you were so insane about this this morning! You can't just say she's really cool and that's it?"

"Wait, you didn't tell anyone, did you?" Madison's eyes widened.

"Of course not!" Mandy almost seemed offended, "I _can _keep my mouth shut, you know?"

"Fine, just checking."

"Besides, after Lisa's freak out? Nobody's ready to talk about anything else but _that_," Mandy giggled, "So, what's up? She-who-must-not-be-named?"

"Wow, way to equate her with the Dark Lord," Madison laughed a little then paused, biting the inside of her cheek, ""She's awesome, actually, but…"

"But?"

"I think dad likes her or something."

Mandy stared at her friend for a moment before bursting out into laughter.

"Hey! That's not funny!" Madison admonished even though she was smiling as well, "Come on, Mandy, it's not funny!"

"It is! Oh, my god, Mads, seriously? Your dad _likes_ her?"

"Yeah," Madison shrugged, "I mean, she's pretty cool."

"Well, I knew that," Mandy shrugged, "So, is he seeing her again? Today?"

"Nah," Madison shook her head, "I told you—he's got court and then we're going home. Actually, I think he's leaving already. Why?"

"Nothing," Mandy shrugged, "It's just…seriously, are you trying to set your dad up with a woman who isn't exactly, oh, I dunno, normal?"

"There's nothing wrong with her!" Madison said vehemently.

Mandy nodded, "I know, there isn't except, well, she's a politician."

"Oh, god, Mandy, are you going to tell me something your mom dug up?"

"No, of course not, I mean, not that she did or anything, but…" Mandy shrugged again, "They don't exactly date like normal people, I mean, not even like lame-o divorced people date, you know?"

"I don't even see the difference between normal and divorced people dating," Madison muttered. "And hey, my dad's divorced."

"That's why I added the lame-o part," Mandy pointed out, "Your dad's cool, Mads. Don't worry. Anyway, I'm just saying—politicians? Sucky lives. I mean, seriously, I didn't just read about it. It's everywhere."

"Mandy, I just said he likes her."

"And she's pretty cool."

"That too."

"And you totally love her."

"Yeah."

"Madison?"

"Yeah?"

"Not to be all potty-mouth or anything," her friend made a face at the mocking tone of her voice, "But…your dad is so screwed, right?"

Madison laughed, "Yeah, pretty much."

Their laughter on both ends of the call were drowned out suddenly by the school bell, signaling lunch was over and Mandy had to go. Both were eager for the day to end so they could finally talk all they wanted and each girl hung up with wide grins on their young faces.

And thus, the plotting began.

-o0o-

All in all, it wasn't as bad as they thought it would be.

They'd gotten a few calls from the press and received a call of inquiry regarding the matter with the transition team—the very group of people who were responsible for what may come of the future roles of the Senator in the current administration—and fielded each one with the level of professionalism and thoroughness expected of them.

Eli, Annie and their team had gone into complete incident management mode and while it wasn't the first time any man had been linked to the Senator and it wouldn't be the last. The only the exception was the fact that they did have some sort of proof available with a few _vague_ photos, but even then, those weren't enough to legitimately threaten the Senator's standing. In fact, if the small spurts of reaction they were managing to get through the blogosphere in these early stages, some were even quite pleased to see Diane Lockhart having some semblance of a social life outside her work.

They were even getting a few people who were readily expressing their distaste at the invasion of privacy after it was made clear that the Senator was indeed at the hospital for personal reasons. They'd expressed concern, notably a Chicago online news site, for Diane, hoping she was alright and the situation wasn't too dire. Of course, this pleased them, seeing how the people were ready to care for their candidate, something they can definitely work with should this continue to catch attention.

Not that any of them imagined this might, at least, not really. The story merited nothing more than a few lines to explain. They had set it straight already that she had no relation with the man and had _not _even set eyes on him until the night before. It was a small matter and it would die a natural death.

In the end, they were able to get the members of the legitimate press to run with a flattering story regarding how the Senator helped someone who was in the same flight as her. Sure there were buzzing from the blogs that caught the story first, but it was the legitimate press who was granted access and thus got the story straight. By the next news cycle, stories of how Diane Lockhart selflessly helped an ill passenger aboard a flight home to Chicago would be out for all to read.

Annie was only more thankful they hadn't gotten a wind of Madison McVeigh yet. They had managed to get away with explaining Diane a friend and also the 'ill passenger' who happened to be in the same hospital because they knew exposure of the girl's identity was not a part of the story any of them were willing to give up. Not only would that lead to the possibility of exposing the girl to something she did not invite upon herself, but they were also unwilling to sacrifice her privacy.

Plus, everyone in their staff knew Diane wouldn't be pleased if her name got out there. She wouldn't want anyone coming near Madison or, if she could help it, her father, knowing full well herself at how much of a burden it was once you lose your anonymity in the current age. They weren't going to rip that away from them, not if they could help it.

They didn't have Kurt's name yet and, god willing, they weren't going to get it. He was just a man, a stranger, caught in a vague photo with the Senator. At worst, the best photo they managed to get was them leaning close together, as if in a deep conversation. They looked close but there was nothing incriminating about the photo in print. His face was in profile but not much so and if they did succeed in killing the story, they might get away with him being just another nameless figure.

Eli, despite his frustration at not being able to contact the Senator, handled it all with the usual finesse he possessed. He was derisive and sarcastic, his usual manner when dealing with people he knew were a waste of his time. He juggled the calls with aplomb, batting them off with each the required veracity, depending on who was calling from where. He laughed, he sneered and he jeered—pure Eli Gold at his absolute best even though he was seething in between each call, wondering and spitting about Diane Lockhart who, as impossible as it may seem, had indeed cut all contact with him.

Annie sat back with Marissa, both of them watching the girl's father walk about the house. The continuous ringing of the phones were finally over, save for a few here and there. The so called headlines online had been diffused through the more legitimate press for the night as well as the day after. They'd made a clean getaway and all they were missing now was the Senator who, as reported, was currently spending the holidays with friends and family.

"He's just pissed because he can't find her," Marissa said, grinning at Annie.

"Yes, he hasn't seen her since last night," Annie nodded.

The girl laughed quietly, "I heard she ditched him."

Annie nodded, "Pretty much. She just needs space."

"I wouldn't blame her," Marissa shrugged, "That guy was pretty cute…even if his kid did throw up on her."

"Yeah," Annie nodded, "He was nice too."

The girl nodded, "Think she'll see him again?"

"Probably not," Annie answered honestly.

"Too bad," Marissa muttered.

Annie smiled wanly, "Yeah, too bad."

From across the hall, they could see Eli Gold talking to who they could surmise to be Will Gardner.

Marissa turned to Annie, "What are the chances she _is_ with him?"

"Who? Mr. McVeigh?"

The younger woman wrinkled her nose in amusement, "_No_, Will."

"Oh," Annie bit her bottom lip then said in a low voice, "It's possible."

"Think she'll show up tonight?"

"Maybe, but not until much later," Annie shrugged, "She's got a few things tomorrow but other than that…she just needs the down time."

"I think you all do," Marissa looked at her father, tilting her head to the side, "Especially him."

Annie laughed, "Try telling him that."

"Yeah, right," Marissa smirked, "Wanna go see what Mrs. Wheedon made for dinner?"

"Sure," Annie grinned, "I'm starving."

The two women exited the living room just as Eli's voice boomed throughout the house and his cellphone went flying across the carpeted floors.

Marissa Gold's muffled laughter flitted through just as she entered the kitchen.

-o0o-

"I really don't know what you want me to say."

Will Gardner let out a sarcastic laugh, "No, really, Eli. I don't. What exactly do you think I do with my life? Think of wicked little ways I can screw with you?"

He tossed his keys on the bowl next to his door, his phone pressed to his ear and didn't bother looking as he turned on the lights in his apartment. He was in need of a shower after a pickup game of basketball and he was sincerely dying to get out of his sweaty clothes. He had changed in the lockers but his body was still winding down from the game and what he really needed was to actually get clean.

Only unfortunately for him, it seemed that might not be as easy to achieve as he thought, considering his repeated foiled attempts to get off the phone. Why hadn't he just let it go to voicemail?

Eli Gold managed to catch him as he was getting out of his car in the garage and from the trek there to his apartment on the 14th floor, he'd been stuck trying to get off the phone. He'd always known the political strategist was relentless, but this was too much, even for him, considering he could not even remember the last time he'd seen or spoken with the man in person.

Not that there was much to be said between them when Will was completely politics free outside of work. The whole thing was too messy, lacking he system he so enjoyed in the practice of law. He was a sportsman, he liked thought-out games and strategies and while there was a lot of planning, plotting, scheming, strategizing and god knew what else in politics, it wasn't as systematic as the law. Will liked knowing the pieces and being able to look at a game plan.

Politics, especially with the way it was now, was entirely too mercurial for his tastes.

"Look, for the last time, I _don't_ know where she is," he rolled his eyes, leaning back against his door, "I know we had plans, but she cancelled—no, actually, _Annie_ cancelled and I never heard from anyone on your side again. I got ditched too, you know. You hear me bitching? And by the way, doesn't she have that-that goon squad? Aren't they supposed to, you know, track her or whatever? Some Batcave signal in her shoe or something like that?"

He grinned as the other man practically sputtered on the other line, explaining once more the situation. Evidently, the hired goon squad were experiencing some difficulties in their new assignment. And while Will felt bad for them, considering the fact that they were probably getting ten times worst of what he was dealing with through the phone, he was thoroughly enjoying a full-on freak out by the great Eli Gold. It was hilarious.

"Tell you what," he interrupted yet another diatribe from the woes of Eli, "I'll be a good boy and see if she calls me. She does, I'll tell you and blah, blah, blah. You get the picture." He paused to listen, only to suddenly find himself snorting with laughter, "Well, gee, I feel the love, Eli. Yeah, have a good one. Watch that temper."

And with nothing else left for him to say, Will hung up laughing as he stared at the ceiling of his apartment. He waited a few seconds before letting his laughter die down then pushed off the door and walked into his home. He left his gym bag where he dropped it in a heap but kept his phone in one hand while running the other through his moist hair.

"I just finished a round on the court," he announced, "I'm gonna take a shower and then how about some dinner?"

Diane Lockhart looked up from her position on his couch, looking up from the book she'd procured from his shelf. She'd noticed a few additions since she'd been there last and while their tastes in literature didn't always meet eye to eye, she was at least glad she found something even she could enjoy. Good god, how many books on sports could one man have?

"There's some pasta in the kitchen," she said, curled up in the comfortable heavy leather chair she was occupying liberally. She had her legs tucked underneath her, shoes off and her usually perfectly coiffed hair much looser after running her fingers through them a several times. It was a habit that usually bubbled up the surface when she was tense or feeling considerably stressed.

"Perfect," Will smiled, glancing at his barely used kitchen and seeing the food laid out on the island in the middle, "Thank you! I'll be right back."

"It's the least I could do," she called out as she returned to her reading, "Eli should be about ready to pop a vein by now."

"Yes, just about," she heard him answer from the general direction of his bedroom. "What are you doing here anyway? If I knew you uncancelled, I could have skipped the game."

"I didn't know about my plans until I ended up here."

"Why? What happened?" his voice was muffled as he took his shirt off quickly.

"I see you haven't been online? Or am I giving the vultures too much credit, for once?"

Will emerged from the hall leading to his bedroom, his torso bare save for the heavy towel thrown around his neck. He had a look of serious curiosity on his face, the buoyancy of the earlier conversation gone, "I was in court most of the day. What's going on? What happened?"

"It's…nothing," Diane shook her head, "Go. Take a bath. You most likely stink and I don't want dinner to get any colder."

"Fine, but I resent the implication I smell because I don't," he playfully made a face at her, "I'll be quick but we're going to talk about this."

She watched him go, not bothering to speak, which was a good thing since Will seemed to feel he wasn't quite finished with her yet. She made a face at the spot he'd just disappeared from before trying to go back to reading when his voice came through once more.

"I knew you didn't un-ditch me for no reason!"

"Un-cancel, un-ditch," Diane rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "My god, how are you still practicing law?"

"It's my boyish charms and ruggedly handsome looks!"

She snorted, "I bet!"

"You are so snarky tonight. You've been spending _way _too much time around Eli!"

She responded with laughter and went back to her reading. Turning a page, Diane realized she was feeling quite better. She had debated with herself whether it was a good idea to go there, but she was definitely glad she did now. This was what she needed, some time away from the hubbub that surrounded her, even it was only just for a few moments. Now, she was beginning to feel better about what the rest of the night might have in store for her.

It wasn't all too far from the feeling that came with being home.

-o0o-

In his living room at ten in the evening, Kurt McVeigh sat in front of the fire.

The house was quiet and he had sent Madison off to bed promptly at nine. She was back to school the next day and while he had finished his consultation that day, he still had a couple of cases more lined up he was almost behind on already. That, and he had a meeting with the Police Chief the next day—he was sure he was getting signed up to another case thanks to Tony.

Usually, on nights like this when he found he couldn't sleep, he would work. But somehow, that night, the first night back from Washington, he couldn't find it in himself to do so. It wasn't of unusual occurrence, but it tended to happen sometimes when he felt bogged down or just needed some down time. He knew the signs of burn out, knew his limits enough.

And he knew well enough that he was experiencing none of those signs. Somehow, something inside of him just _didn't _want to work, which was unusual because he was a man who liked to keep busy. He enjoyed doing what he did and he was a dedicated man. And especially considering he had just come back from a short vacation, by now he really should be itching to get to his pending cases.

He could try to move, but Kurt knew it would just feel too much of a hassle. It was a quiet night and normally, he could appreciate the peace and the stillness, but somehow, tonight it just seemed to make him feel hollow. It was almost haunting and daunting at the same time, if that made much sense.

Eyeing the locked liquor cabinet, he shook his head and decided he couldn't afford to wake up the next day with a hangover. He wasn't a drinking man and he wasn't about to start now just because he felt a little off.

Besides, he had a daughter. He wasn't that big of an idiot.

Sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, he dangled a card from between his fingers while his other hand held on to the phone. The name in plain black written in the middle of the card was devoid of any titles and carried only one number but underneath there was another hastily scrawled set of numbers too. He traced the name with the tip of his index finger, shaking his head slightly as he contemplated what he might do.

He flipped it over, catching the blank page on the other side of the card and let out a sigh. He was itching for a drink, but he fought the urge once more. Instead, he lifted the phone in his hand and dialed quickly before he lost his nerve. Waiting, he began to toy with the card in one hand, tapping it noiselessly against the surface of the coffee table in front of him.

"You have reached the private line of Diane Lockhart. Please leave a—"

Recognizing her senior aide's voice filter through, Kurt shook his head and hung up quickly. He decided to take that as a sign and placed the card down on the table in front of him. Shaking his head, he chastised himself mentally, slapping himself silly as his mind berated him on what exactly he had been thinking considering to call in the first place.

Placing the cordless on the coffee table, Kurt sighed and pushed himself up off the seat. He spared a glance at the business card next to the phone but could only shake his head once more. He felt foolish and how he hated feeling that way. He let out a small scoff and decided to be on his way instead, forgetting his dumb idea and how it ever came to be in the first place.

He had pending cases he'd left sitting much too long already.

-o0o-

In the shadows of the hall leading to the staircase, Madison McVeigh had lingered.

She had awoken that night feeling thirsty and decided to go down for a drink. She hadn't expected her father would be up or would, at least, be in the living room. After all, if he wasn't asleep already by this time, he would be working out in his laboratory. She was used to his nocturnal habits and seldom found herself surprised by him anymore.

Tonight though had been different.

Never one to be idle, she at least expected he would be reading but that night, that was exactly what Madison had caught him doing. He sat there in their living room, staring into the fire, barely moving.

It had not been easy watching her father sit there like that—it made him seem older than he actually was and it was unnerving. She had nearly approached him until she saw him pull out a card from his pocket and reach for the phone next to him. She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what he was looking at and hope had bloomed within her right then.

Half expecting him to begin dialing, Madison couldn't help but feel apprehensive when he merely stared at the phone in his hand. She willed him silently to just punch in the numbers, clutching at the pockets of her robe and just beamed when he quickly began dialing. She watched with a smile as he pressed the phone to his ear with a deep breath.

From her vantage point, her father seemed so conflicted, but she was glad to see him swallow whatever fears lingered within him and just jumped right in. She knew very well who he was calling and she was glad to see he was at least going to be straightforward with it.

Unfortunately though, her elation did not last long as her father immediately hung up. He clutched the phone in his hands for a while before setting the card down and the phone after. She knew who he had been calling and she was so sure it was going to go well, but it had been disheartening to see him unceremoniously hang up after one try.

After that, her father simply stood up, staring at the things he had left on the table before shaking his head and walking away. Madison slid further into the shadows, watching him head to his lab after nothing but a quick glance at the card and proceeded to disappear.

Madison entered the living room and picked up the card and read Diane Lockhart's name and a set of numbers scratched off with a sharp line underneath. Replacing those rejected numbers, another set had been hastily scrawled down in sweeping strokes.

As mischievous she was, Madison was far too careful of her father's feelings to actually do something about what she had an altogether difference of opinion with. She hadn't seen him that conflicted in a while and it made her heart sad as she contemplated what may be lingering in his mind as he sat there. She wished so much he had at least given himself the chance and speak before simply hanging up, but she knew he had his reasons. She wasn't going to overstep boundaries on that matter—at least, not tonight.

Shaking her head, she glanced only briefly to where her father disappeared off to then eyed the card on the table. Madison bit her bottom lip before picking it up and slipping it into the pocket of her robe. She didn't bother with the phone and instead, moved to douse the fire her father had left, knowing if he had begun his work, he wouldn't be needing it any longer.

Madison looked around, nodding slowly to herself before heading off to the kitchen, one hand tucked into the pocket of her robe.

Touching the card in her pocket with the tips of her fingers, Madison could only shake her head as she contemplated her father's actions. It was no secret he was a complicated man—even she could not claim to know him well enough to explain some of the things he did but she was allowed to be frustrated by them.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Madison grabbed herself a bottle of water before heading up to her room.

"Dad," she sighed as she lay back down in bed, "What are you thinking?"

-o0o-

Diane Lockhart found herself sneaking back into her own home later that night.

It was ridiculous because the whole matter made her feel more like an errant teenager who broke curfew rather than a member of the United States Senate. It did not help that she smelled of liquor—the few she had allowed Will to coax her into drinking and looking less than presentable than she did that morning.

Still though, it had felt nice just sitting back and enjoying the company of an old friend. It had been a while since she got to stay in Chicago long enough to actually have time to spare for Will and she was glad she'd taken the chance today. She had missed his company, missed being treated like any other person and just being with someone with no political goal in mind or a favor lingering in the sidelines.

It was nice to just talk and laugh with someone who actually knew her rather than knew what pages from the papers and magazines _and_ tabloids knew of her. It was rare for her to be so relaxed with anyone, especially these days when betrayal and other agendas seemed so rife in the current age.

Making a note to herself, she decided to come by Will's more often. The man was a tease but he was fun to be around. She was sure Eli would have a fit at the idea her friendship with the litigator would get found out but Diane could barely care at the moment. They could call Will what they want—bachelor, scoundrel, hard ass—she wasn't going to let another relationship worth keeping go down the drain just because it might reflect badly on her. Will was from her past, the part of it she wanted to hold on to before it all slipped away, and she wasn't about to just let it go with the rest of it.

Pushing the backdoor of her home open quietly, Diane almost smiled to herself at her success. She was sure she could hold this over Coyne's head after successfully sneaking back into her home, but a part of her also had a feeling they knew she was coming. It sure took the fun out of things, but she could pretend otherwise, even for a moment. It amused her.

"Good evening, Senator."

The voice came out from nowhere in the dimly lit room and Diane jumped, letting out a sharp curse that was truly unbecoming of a lady _and_ a respected member of the Senate, pressing her hand on her chest, "Jesus Eli!"

"Just Eli works fine," came the low reply, "Nice of you to join us."

"Us?" Diane looked around just as the kitchen was illuminated—Eli always did have that flare for the dramatics—and didn't miss her Senior Aide and Head of Security standing against the kitchen island. She frowned, completely caught off guard, "What are you three still doing up? And _here_? Annie, you should have gone home hours ago."

"I made her stay," Eli shrugged, "Thought you could use the progress report after they've been working their asses off all day while you—where the hell have you been?"

"Watch your tone, Eli," Diane said lowly, her back shooting straight as if someone had shoved an steel bar up her spine. She didn't take to kindly to being treated like an errant child.

Eli's eyes darkened and his lips tightened but he kept silent, backing down as he gave her the slightest nod.

"Annie, it's late," Diane said, turning to the younger woman, "There are a couple of guest bedrooms upstairs. I'm sure they're fit for sleeping under Mrs. Wheedon's watch. Go on and sleep. You're dead on your feet."

The younger woman nodded, smiling at her boss, "Thank you, Miss Lockhart. I'm glad you're alright."

Diane smiled at the girl, watching as she exited and then turned to Justin Coyne, "I had thought your shift would have ended by now."

"Mr. Gold insisted I stay," Justin replied evenly.

"To shoot me, no doubt," Diane said dryly, "Go on, Mr. Coyne. Everything's alright. I will see you in the morning. Tell your team I've been found and I'm in one piece."

Coyne nodded, giving a ghostly smile that might as well have not been there, "They already know, ma'am."

Diane watched the man leave, taking out his phone and began to speak to someone on his way out. She took a moment before turning towards Eli, giving him her most patient look before taking a seat by the now unoccupied island. She put her purse aside, slipping onto a seat and held her head up with one hand, elbow on the counter and looked at her Chief of Staff.

"Okay, let me have it."

Eli paused before speaking, "I don't know where to begin."

"Well, you have to start somewhere," Diane said simply, "But for future references, Eli—you do not speak to me that way in front of _anyone_, do you understand? I let you have your time when we are alone, but you do not treat me with so little respect in front of anyone else ever again, understood?"

"Yes," was the grudging reply, "I'm sorry. I was…agitated."

"I know," she nodded, "So…what _have_ you been doing?"

"Putting out small fires," Eli shrugged, "They didn't know who he was and they only got vague pictures. Annie moved pretty fast and, er, Mr. McVeigh played his part well. He could have been a civilian bodyguard or something."

"And I'm sure if that was in his background, you would know," Diane nodded, "Do I have anything to worry about, Eli?"

"No," he shook his head, "They have no idea who he is. You've been 'busy' today and we're exchanging a few favors for the silence on the matter."

"Favors?" Diane frowned, "That makes it seem like there _is_ something to hide."

Eli shrugged, "There isn't but I know you wouldn't have been pleased if his name got out."

Diane sighed, "No, I wouldn't. He was a random guy, Eli. We met by chance and I don't believe I will be seeing him again. No reason to put him through the fire just because he had the unfortunate luck of crossing paths with me."

"Well, I wouldn't call it _unfortunate_," Eli offered quietly.

She merely shrugged, giving him an almost wistful smile, "He doesn't need me complicating his life. We won't be meeting anymore in the future."

Eli nodded, hearing the words she hadn't spoken underneath the ones she did, "And Miss Madison McVeigh?"

She looked at him for a moment before nodding, "Yes, her as well."

"Well, if it's worth anything," Eli shrugged, "She really…_adored_ having you around."

There was no use denying it, considering the girl had hidden nothing in her affection for the woman she'd just met. Madison hadn't been at all shy or selfish of her attention.

Diane smiled faintly as she stood up, gathering her things with her, "She's a wonderful girl. I doubt I've seen the last of her."

Eli tried not to groan, "For my sanity's sake, I hope you have."

The woman chuckled, patting her Chief of Staff on the shoulder as she passed him, "You can take the other guest room. Good night, Eli."

"I already have," he smirked, "Good night, Senator."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Extra, Extra!**

"Who's going to tell her?"

"Does it matter? She's going to find out anyway."

"Yeah, it's not like it's hard to miss the vultures waiting outside."

"Marissa."

"What? It's true! The body count outside the house has been growing all morning."

"What's on her schedule for today, Annie?"

"Just the luncheon and a party at the Florrick residence in Highland Park."

Eli groaned, "We'll take the luncheon but I don't think she's going to be up for Highland Park."

Annie nodded, "I'll prepare something then, just in case. Mrs. Florrick was looking forward to her coming."

"Of course she was," Eli nodded, "When those two get together…did she happen to mention margaritas?"

Annie nodded with a grin, "The Senator promised to bring a bottle."

"With the worm," Eli shook his head. "Women."

Marissa raised an eyebrow at the mention of drinks. She knew the Senator was friends with the Florricks but she had no idea she was drinking buddies with the wife. She smothered a laugh, remembering the prim and proper though always stylish Alicia Florrick and trying to imagine her getting together with Diane, both getting hammered on tequila. It had to be hilarious.

Eli shook his head, "Is she up yet?"

Annie checked her watch, "If she isn't, she will be."

"Someone will have to tell her," Eli shook his head, "We knew something like this could happen."

"Yes, Eli, a minor blog but this is…" Annie swiped her finger across the screen of her tablet, "The Tribune. Pretty soon, the others are going to pick up on it now that it's out—the New York Times, the Post…even Snark will be taking a page for it too, most likely."

"You think I don't know that, Annie?" the older man snapped, only to catch the look on the younger woman's face, clearly not amused. He'd long ago found out the Senior Aide was simply not just another lackey. But instead of apologizing, he inclined his head in her direction in the briefest sign of remorse.

"What are you going to do now?" Annie asked after a moment—she was small, sure but she'd more than proven herself to Eli Gold.

"It's entered the news cycle," Eli gritted his teeth, "You can call Amelia and the rest of those fucking useless bunch of idiots the deals are off. Every single one of them."

"But Eli—"

"That may be Montrose's name under the headline, but you can bet your _ass_ Lange's prints are all over the damned page," the political strategist seethed. "Cut it. All of it. And if they want to bitch about it, tell them to take it up with me."

He snatched the tablet off the table, ignoring the breakfast the housekeeper had laid out and headed towards the stairs, "I'll talk to her. You people try to figure out some way where I don't have to go to jail after slaughtering a bunch of _reporters_!"

Annie and Marissa watched as Eli stomped up the stairs, leaving the two women with the rest of the staff that managed to come in before the front of the home was bombarded by reporters. They'd gone to the Lockhart home first and that had given the team a head start to gathering without being accosted by the hounds. Still, it had been a close call and no matter how easily they managed to get in, getting out was going to take work.

That, and no matter what they might say, nothing could take back what had already been done.

Because as of that very morning, the country was well and truly aware of the man photographed with Senator Diane Lockhart from Illinois and they had his name, his history and the story of his life.

And it was splashed all over the news for the world to see.

It was as if Pandora's Box had been opened and there was no chance of ever putting it all back in again.

And Diane Lockhart's morning hadn't even quite started yet.

-o0o-

Throughout the city, those concerned found themselves starting their days in a similar fashion.

For Will Gardner, with no court to prep for and a quiet day at the office to anticipate, decided to take a more leisurely approach to his morning. He didn't quite have a hangover and he was in a good mood after a nice night in. He was still quite pleased at having his old friend drop by—it had been too long, after all.

So he decided to take his time to actually eat breakfast—Froot Loops, milk and coffee—and reading the morning's paper.

He had been expecting to see some interesting headlines, but the last thing he had been counting on spotting was the name of his aforementioned old friend splashed across the page—with a photo.

She had mentioned it the night before but it didn't help to see it for himself. He was so sure it would blow over but it seemed Diane's cynicism had been right for once. There in bold black letters, a captioned photo and the man's name, the whole story had been laid out.

And it did not help that Will knew who the man was although from the photo alone he wouldn't have been so quick to guess it was him. He sank in his seat, cereal forgotten, as he took in the story. It was all there—things he hadn't even been aware of regarding the laconic ballistics expert whose services he had taken up a few times in the past.

Diane hadn't even mentioned his name but now, here it was, in black and white.

Will continued to read, unable to help himself, shaking his head.

And all he could say was, "Damn."

He then wondered if perhaps he should call his friend and see if anything could be done.

Even though he could guess the answer for himself already.

On the other side of town, in a quiet suburban neighborhood, Detective Tony De Luca was enjoying another of his wife's scrumptious breakfasts. It was heavy and fattening, surely adding another mile or two to his usual route, but well worth it. Oh, he was a lucky man.

Ethel passed by her husband, patting his cheek affectionately before heading towards the fridge as he read his paper. She had just reached for the milk when her husband's booming voice startled her, effectively dodging the glass pitcher from her fingers as she jumped at the sudden intrusion.

"Antonio!" came her sharp reprimand, turning away from the mess to see her husband slam his fist onto the table, his plate rattling and his eyes bulging. "What is it?"

"Damned reporters!" he growled, tossing the paper aside before stalking out of the room, breakfast forgotten and his rage seemingly leaving a hot trail in his wake. "Come on, Ethel!"

His wife, all too used to his raging at the news, picked up the paper daintily after stepping over the mess just to see what had set off her usually calm bear of a husband. It didn't take her long to see what had angered him so and the woman could barely let out a quiet, "Oh, no," before setting the paper down and heading for the cupboard where the brooms were kept.

She would clean up quickly and head straight for the McVeighs—she could only imagine what father and daughter were going through if they were already aware of what had happened.

In no time at all, husband and wife were pulling out of their driveway, both cars taking different routes—the detective making his way to work while his wife headed for their friend's home. They each had things to do with both set of minds inclined to their own goals already.

And both knew it was going to be a long morning.

"Hey dad! I'm leaving!"

Kurt McVeigh looked up, startled for a moment before dropping the paper and running for his daughter. She was already making her way to the front door and he barely reached her as she began to turn the knob.

"Mads!"

"What?" the girl stopped, noting the tone of alarm in her father's voice and immediately halting. Much as she enjoyed teasing him, she knew when not to and whenever a certain tone came to his voice, instinct told her enough not to push anything.

"You're not going to school today," Kurt told her, taking her bag off her back and depositing it onto the floor by the front door. "Called your school already."

"What? But dad," Madison couldn't help the whine in her voice. "Mandy and I have a _lot_ to talk about and I'm so behind, I don't think I'll still be alive by the time I get through the schoolwork they have waiting for me."

"Sorry, Mads, but please, just listen?"

"But dad," Madison began then stopped, noting the look on her father's face. He wasn't trying to be mean to her or even angry. In fact, he almost looked weird, standing in front of her like that. He was dressed for work already but he didn't seem inclined on leaving either. "Dad, what's going on?"

"It's just…" Kurt stopped, shaking his head before directing his daughter towards the living room. He sat her down before kneeling in front of her, placing a hand on her knee and squeezed, "It's not a good time to go to school right now, okay? I've spoken with the school and they'll be sending your things over. Right now, we're staying home, okay?"

"What's going on?" Madison's eyes widened in alarm, "Did something happen in school? Is anybody hurt? Oh, god, was it a shooting?"

"What?" Kurt's eyebrows shot up, reaching up to place a hand on her cheek, "No, no—no, baby. Nothing like that. Everyone's fine. It's us, Mads. Something's going on and right now, the best place for you is here."

Madison stared at her father, biting the inside of her cheek before realization dawned upon her, "Is it something with Diane? Has something happened…? Is she okay?"

"She is—uh, I don't know, maybe," Kurt shook his head, "But there are things on the paper right now that—"

"The paper?" Madison shot up, heading towards the kitchen where she'd last spotted her father. She ignored his call as she swiped it off the counter, easily finding the page he had just been reading.

Spreading the page in front of her, her eyes widened as she took in the photo of her father with the Senator, her intelligent light gray eyes quickly scanning the article. She'd always been a fast reader and she took full advantage of that.

It seemed they didn't miss a thing.

Her mother's death, Madison's birth—though her name hadn't been mentioned—her father's military career, his divorce, his work and a few other choice information. Even his accident from years ago, the one that had left him in a coma, was there and that information alone made the young girl's heart tighten. God, they knew everything and hadn't held anything back.

Madison had been spared, her name never appeared, but her father's life was splashed across the page like someone had simply spilled a bucket of paint carelessly. She didn't care about what they knew about her, she just hated that they were trampling on their lives like this.

It was awful and a part of Madison felt her anger boiling at the intrusion on her father's life. How could they? How _dare _they? So they met the Senator, so what? That shouldn't have been reason to just throw everything out in the open like that. It wasn't fair and Madison knew just what this was costing her father.

He didn't like talking about the past, not her mother, not his life in the military and certainly not his accident. He was a private man and there were just some things that were too painful to discuss, let alone share with the world. She knew it had to be hurting him now.

She dropped the paper, turning around to face her father and saw him standing in the middle of the living room. His head was bent and his hands were shoved into his pockets. He was avoiding looking at her and it made her all the more angry at whoever was responsible for this.

"Dad?" he looked up, but she could see the reluctance in his eyes.

He seemed like he was at such a loss, Madison could only feel her resolve break. It only propelled her to go straight to him and she moved through the room and threw herself in her father's arms, hugging him tightly. She wished there was some way this could be stopped but she knew there was little chance it could be made possible. She bit the inside of her cheek and squeezed her father even tighter, hoping he knew he didn't have to worry about her.

She more worried about him, what this could do to him.

And for the first time, Madison McVeigh was almost sorry she'd met Diane Lockhart in the first place.

-o0o-

"Well?"

Diane handed the tablet back to Eli, running a hand through her hair before looking away. The windows of her bedroom were closed but she was sure she could hear the rumblings going on outside. It could be just her imagination though or maybe something she'd conjured from memory.

"How long has it been up?" she asked, still avoiding his scrutinizing gaze.

"Since this morning," he said quietly, "We put it to bed, Diane. We don't know who was behind this one and we certainly didn't expect it. We had agreements, confirmations."

Diane blinked, "Someone reneged on your deal?"

"Or decided it was too good to pass up," Eli muttered. "We spoke with the legitimate parties…this just blindsided us."

"I'm guessing Clyde Montrose was one of the few who you hadn't spoken to?"

"Yes, but he's new game and our contact was Amelia Lange," he muttered.

"She used him to get it out," she guessed correctly, "And that's even a different photo from what the general pool had."

"Yes," Eli nodded, his jaw clenching. He didn't like defeat and as far as he was concerned, _this _was defeat and it stung deeply. He wouldn't tell her but he already had some kind of battle plan at the ready. Amelia Lange was not about to get away scot-free with pulling this kind of crap on him, not like this.

"They kept Madison out of it, at the very least," Diane said, nodding a little, "They gave you that."

"No," Eli shook his head, "I think it's more a matter of _them_ giving _you _that. They aren't eager to alienate you."

Diane glanced at the tablet he was holding and she gave him an enigmatic smile, "After this, Eli? I think we're past alienating. I want their names, Eli, and I want them in a list. I won't be doing anything about it but keep the names for the future. We won't be using those channels any longer."

Eli nodded, "Of course."

"Also," she stopped, pursing her lips slightly, "Send Samantha Archer to the McVeigh's? Tell her to be discreet, tell her I need this taken care of and…"

Eli moved forward, "And?"

"Tell her to make sure he doesn't know I sent her?"

He nodded, "I'll make a call to the Chief. I know they have some dealings with Mr. McVeigh and the police department could use a little bit of Archer's touch."

A nod, "The transition team called? Yesterday?"

"Yes," he sighed, "And after this? I'm expecting another call."

She nodded, "I'll speak to them myself. It's likely we will be setting up something to address the press. My nomination has been rife with speculation and adding this matter? They will need answers."

"Does this mean you're ready to give your answer?"

"No," she shook her head, "But it does mean I will be forced to consider things faster than I'd originally intended. I was supposed to have until January."

He nodded, "Understandable. I'll let you know when they call then."

Diane nodded, "Thank you. Send Annie in, will you? We have some details to work out on that luncheon."

"You're still going?"

She looked at him then, "Yes. If anything good should ever come out of this, it might as well be this one. The center needs the press time, some exposure for their cause. With them hounding me more than ever, it's likely they will be getting just that today."

Eli smiled a little, "Making lemonade?"

The corners of her lips quirked upwards in a humorless grin, "Something like that."

Eli nodded, hiding the unease he was feeling at the mantle of utter calm the Senator was showing. This was not the Diane he was used to dealing with. She was usually more emotional, more vocal in private. He didn't like how this matter was making her seem almost frozen, like a statue he didn't want to dare disturb.

He began to leave the room, moving towards the door when her voice stopped him, calling out his name quietly, "Eli?"

"Yes, Senator?" he felt her demeanor merited his addressing of her title.

"Is all of it true?"

He didn't need to ask what she meant, "Yes."

"Did you know about it? About his wife?"

He nodded slowly, "Yes."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I hadn't planned on it," he replied honestly, "It didn't seem important to mention…and it was his story to tell. I never imagined it would be revealed this way though."

She turned her face away from his view, "How did they find out, Eli?"

He shrugged almost imperceptibly, "How does anyone ever find out anything these days?"

Eli saw her head move from one side to the other, "Would you please send Annie in now?"

"Yes, of course, Senator," he nodded, heading towards the door. He glanced at the woman for a moment as she sat there quietly, clenching his fist at his side before shutting the door quietly behind him.

A part of Eli seethed with unbridled rage. He didn't usually dabble in the personal dealings of the Senator but he did not appreciate at the blatant lack of ethics and courtesy that was being put into play here. There had been nothing sinister in that meeting, nothing at all scandalous about her connection to the father and child, but somehow, what used to pass as a respectable paper now seemed to sport a behavior that was more fitting a ratty tabloid. Eli was not about to stand for that because despite what the media and easy access technology were now providing, there were still some lines left that shouldn't be crossed.

With that and everything else in mind, Eli left Diane alone to her thoughts as he mulled over his. He was ready to go with whatever he had in his arsenal. It was hard enough for Diane to deal with the holidays, to have this pile on her was just pushing it. Eli was beyond upset.

So he left her alone, leaving her to deal with the information she had been handed

And just maybe some regrets as well.

-o0o-

Black high heels clicked soundly against the floors of the Chicago Police Department that early morning.

Dressed in a sleek black coat and her eyes shielded by black Chanel sunglasses, Samantha Archer certainly made her presence known once she stepped onto the floor. She barely gave a nod towards the woman at the front desk, bypassing her as she walked with both attitude and a purpose.

For anyone looking, she looked appropriately powerful and someone to be reckoned with.

And had she been seen by someone who knew her well, say, a certain Senator who had all but summoned her presence in the nose-wrinkle worthy floors crawling with Chicago five-Os, she would know that Sam Archer was definitely not at her most pleasant that morning. A night of shooting margaritas and moving on to body shots was not the best ways to preempt meeting a new client.

Had it been anyone else, Sam wouldn't even have bothered picking up the phone and had, in fact, almost slammed it at the sound of Eli Gold's voice. He'd been smart though and immediately rattled out the Senator's name before Sam could toss the offending device out the window that morning. She had backed down like a good girl then, crawling out of bed naked and moving towards the bathroom—she already knew she wouldn't be going back to bed and she definitely knew this was no friendly chat.

After all, Diane would have called herself and her calls around the holidays didn't usually come until a few days before Christmas and Sam was used to that. It was a business call, plain and simple, and she'd had guessed properly it would have something to do with the whispers she'd been hearing along the grapevine since the day before.

She just didn't expect her morning's trek would be taking her to the Chicago Police Department, semi-hungover and definitely in the mood to let her claws out. And it was too bad because she was used to letting her claws out but she had been expressively been advised not to do. She had frowned at that—Sam was rarely ever asked to play nice. She was usually called in to do the exact opposite.

But it had been Diane Lockhart who had called her and Sam wouldn't think twice about following her request down to the letter.

That didn't mean she couldn't be curious though because much as she had done properly by Diane and stayed out of matters she hadn't been called to join in on, she had itched just as badly as the curious, curious press as to who the man in the photo had been. She'd seen in briefly before it was even out—one of the benefits of being former "sleep" buddies with a respected reporter—and hadn't been able to put a name to the profile of the man in question.

Good things come to those who wait, though, she had learned because now she was right in the middle of it and she was definitely going to be getting up close and personal with the man of the hour.

Taking a sharp turn into where she was more than sure led to the office she was looking for, Sam gave a smile that consisted mostly of baring her teeth at the woman at the desk before zipping past her and walking right into the Chicago Police Superintendent's office. She ignored the woman's squawking as she closed the door in her face, locking it behind her and genuinely smiled at the startled man.

It only took a moment before the older man recognized her. Of course he would—she'd been on his face a few times in the past already, "Miss Archer?"

"Hello, Super," Sam smiled winningly, "A little bird told me you know where I can find a certain Detective Tony De Luca."

"Sam, what are you doing here? And what do you want with my people now?"

"Don't pretend you didn't get the call too, Mike," her name slid easily from his lips. She was younger than him by a few good years but she never felt fear with the old school chauvinist Superintendent Michael O'Neill.

"Well, I didn't actually think they'd be able to get you," the older man smirked a little, his black and well-groomed moustache twitching, "I thought you were done with us, Sam. You said you'd never come back after the Riley case."

"I did," Sam nodded, striding into the room, "That was clusterfuck and I did everything for you people…then it turned out your people were the scum? That's bad business, Mike. I don't support terrorists."

"We're not going down that road again," Mike shook his head, eyes covered in shadows at the memory of those dark times. "So, you and the Senator, eh? What's the story there? Thought you were non-exclusive."

"I'm not but there are certain exceptions to the rule," she shrugged, "Not that it's any of your business. Now, where is that Detective and the ballistics expert? I'm sure Eli explained it all to you."

"You're spinning this one? It's kid stuff, Sam, definitely beneath you," Mike raised an eyebrow, sharp brown eyes that were still definitely belonging appropriately to a veteran cop and a local hero scrutinizing her and her motives, "And it's not as if it's a scandal. This stuff always blows over…unless there's more to this than Senator Lockhart is willing to share."

"Did you read the paper, Mike?" Sam asked, taking a seat in front of his desk, "Or do you at least know who Kurt McVeigh is?"

"A good man, an excellent forensic analyst," Mike shrugged. "We don't particularly speak often but we've spoken in the past. We do a lot of business with him—but I don't need the paper to know he's clean."

"He's a good man, a war hero, a single father who lost his first wife and a divorcee whose ex-wife won't say a single bad thing about him," Sam pointed out, her blue eyes contrasting with her deep brown hair pleasantly, "The story about his connection with the Senator is true but only the part where she helped them get to a hospital after a bumpy flight. She then spoke with him as normal people would in any situation and some chicken-shit paparazzi wannabe managed to get a shot."

"So it's not an affair."

"Nope," Sam shook her head, "They met the day of the flight."

"So? That seems pretty straight, what's the problem? Why'd they bring in a heavy hitter like you?"

"He's a good man," Sam shrugged, "The Senator would prefer you and I make sure this doesn't have more…adverse effects on him and an innocent little girl."

Mike thought for a moment, "We only do business with him, Sam. He's not an actual employee. Hell, we're not even supposed to have him down considering our budget and resources."

"So, why hire him?"

"Reasonable rates," he shrugged, "We have a business arrangement with him. His friendship with this precinct, particularly with Tony De Luca, has some very rewarding pull. But he also does work in the private sector. A free agent."

Sam looked at Mike for a moment before nodding, "Then this shouldn't be hard to fix. I come in, I'll shoo the pesky little children away and I'm finished. Viola."

He looked at her skeptically, "Why bring me into it?"

Sam smiled charmingly, "Well, your employee _is_ De Luca…and Mr. McVeigh's very ties with this precinct is something to be lauded. How about you return the favor with the very reasonable forensic scientist?"

"What's this going to cost me?" Mike gave her a look.

The woman let out a feral little grin, "Not a damned thing, Mikey boy, not one damned thing."

-o0o-

"How you doing, darling?"

Madison looked up, smiling faintly at her Aunt Ethel as she stood by the door of her bedroom. She put her book aside before sitting up in bed, dressed in a pair of jeans and a shirt after putting her school clothes away. She had stuck around the main floor of the house as her father and Ethel skirted around the reason why Madison was missing school once more and why Ethel had come unannounced.

It had gotten to a point where the air had grown a little thick and Madison had to excuse herself. Her father and her aunt needed to speak anyway and she was sure they didn't want her around for it but had also been too polite to say so. So instead, she got back to her room and curled up in bed with a book.

She had wanted to speak to her friends, particularly Mandy, but she knew they were still in class. She had gotten a couple of texts though, most of them inquiring in typical pre-teen freak out fashion if it was really her dad in the paper being romantically linked to someone famous.

Madison had ignored those texts, frowning at them before putting her phone away. Mandy hadn't sent a text yet but she expected one soon. She liked Mandy best even though they hadn't been friends for too long. She enjoyed talking to her, they could go crazy but also talk seriously at the same time. Plus, she could trust Mandy in a way she couldn't her other friends. Mandy was just more mature than the rest of them.

"I'm good," she smiled at the beautiful woman, inviting her to sit on the bed, "Where's dad?"

"Oh, working," Ethel shrugged, "But I think he's going out for a little bit to meet your Uncle Tony. Some work thing came up so it's just you and me, honey."

"Sounds good," she grinned.

"Anything you wanna do? I can teach you how to cook that little dish you love so much," her aunt offered, running her hand over her bed to smooth out the wrinkles on the coverlet.

Madison nodded, "Perfect, but Aunt Ethy?"

"Yes, baby?" Ethel reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl's ear, more out of habit than anything else.

"Is…is my dad okay?" she asked hesitantly, "I mean…he's so quiet."

"He's just thinking, honey," Ethel winked, "Your dad's fine. He's just trying to figure out what to do about, well, you know the things in the paper."

She nodded, "I can't believe they knew all that."

"Believe it," Ethel nodded, "He's just worried about what this means for you, Mads. He worried about your privacy, about your safety. Just let him think and he'll be just fine."

"I'm worried about him anyway," Madison said quietly, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her folded legs, resting her chin on her knees. "They knew about mom. He doesn't like talking about her."

"Because he thinks it will make you sad and you know he doesn't want you to be sad," Ethel said honestly then nodded slowly, "And it makes him sad too. He loved your Mama very much, Madison."

"I know," she nodded, "It just sucks seeing him so quiet."

"What about you, Mads? How does it make you feel? The paper?"

The girl shrugged, "At first I was mad…that was a total invasion of privacy…but then I got sad because of dad. He didn't say anything and that was how I knew because it had to have been painful to see all that being shared with complete strangers everywhere…but right now? I'm just upset. It's not fair they're doing this…we just made a friend, that's all. I don't understand why that's such a big deal. This sucks."

Ethel, unsure what to say that would just make both of them even more upset, pulled the girl close to her, allowing her to lean her head on her chest and pressed a kiss at the top of her head. The girl did not hesitate to allow her to give her comfort and returned the hug, wrapping her skinny arms around the closest thing she'd ever had to a mother and held on tightly.

Looking up, Ethel managed to catch the briefest glimpse of someone moving away from the door. She couldn't do anything but look at the empty space sadly. Kurt was more worried about Madison than anything even though he too wasn't pleased about what was happening. They hadn't discussed anything but his daughter but Ethel had a feeling it wasn't just the loss of their privacy that was tugging at him.

Ethel would not presume to know how Kurt McVeigh's mind worked but she knew something had happened between him and the woman who was partly responsible for the whole matter. It wasn't physical, not like the way the papers had caught it on camera and made it out to look, but Ethel just knew there had to be something there. Kurt was not a man who allowed himself to get caught up with women too easily. Over the years, save for his ex-wife and as well as another ex-girlfriend, there hadn't been anyone else.

Losing his wife had been a terrible blow, especially losing her the way he did, but having Madison in his life had helped heal him. She put him back together and he moved on. He learned to live as a Dad and had latched on to that role with both hands.

Madison was the center of his world and Ethel had no doubt he would not let anything ruin that. She'd known the ex-wife and other ex-girlfriend too—two women so similar to each other but eventually coming up short in his books and it the fault did not lie entirely with them, of course.

Kurt McVeigh was not a hard man to love, Ethel knew, but he was a hard man to live with. He was taciturn, reserved and not at all often willing to share. If anything it was always Madison who knew how to reach him best. He was in no way a man who suffered from depression or anything of the sort, but he was just quiet. He was dedicated to his daughter and his job and Ethel knew it would take a special kind of woman to get him to open up and loosen up. And while those other two women had tried, they had ultimately failed.

It was hard to live in a house only made alive by a girl. Marriage took work and women needed more than a cursory attention. The two women didn't blame Kurt for it even though it had hurt during the tail ends of both relationships—which should explain why the ex-wife had refused to speak with the press—it was just the way he was, the way life had made him.

Around his daughter, he was a sight to behold though. He smiled more, he laughed more and he truly was a whole man. Alone, however, was another story—which was why Ethel believed that something had happened with Diane Lockhart. Because had she been any other woman, she was sure Kurt McVeigh would have gone back to the way he was before the whole matter had reached this point.

But he hadn't and sad as it made Ethel, he was clearly still harboring some interest in her, no matter how much he tried to hide it, no matter how wrong she might be for him. And no matter how briefly their paths had crossed.

Why else would he refuse to say her name? She was the main reason why he had ended up with his story splashed across the page in black and white and yet, he made no mention of the woman, her position or even indicated she had anything to do with it at all. It wasn't denial but he refused to acknowledge her and to Ethel, while that might mean a dismissal of sorts to other people, with Kurt, it meant something else, something deeper.

Ethel swallowed a sigh, holding on to the man's daughter and prayed both of them would make it through this without getting burned.

"Aunt Ethy?"

"Baby?"

"It's her fault, isn't it?" the girl asked in a small voice and she didn't have to ask who she was talking about.

"I don't know, honey," Ethel said honestly, "They took an interest on your dad because of her, but I don't think it's really her fault."

Madison pulled back, leaving her arms reluctantly and avoiding her aunt's eyes and looked out of her window, "Is it wrong to be mad?"

"No," Ethel replied, "Not at all, baby."

"I…" she stopped, biting her bottom lip, "I want to be mad at her."

"Oh, honey, don't," the older woman said, squeezing her hand gently, "You can't think like that. Sometimes, things are just beyond your control, sometimes things just happen. I'm sure she didn't mean for any of this to happen, sweetie."

"I know," Madison sighed, nodding slightly with a frown on her lovely face, "I want to be mad at her, but I can't. She was really cool, Aunt Ethy. She was great, I liked having her around. I loved her."

"And you were pretty darned good at making her love you too, precious," Ethel smiled, "She came back just to see you again, right?"

The girl turned to face her, smiling slightly, "Did dad talk about her?"

"Oh, no," Ethel shook her head, "Your dad's too busy thinking about you. You know how he can be."

Madison grinned, "I do. Oh, Aunt Ethy, this is a mess."

"That it is, darling, that it is," the woman said, nodding as she stood up, running a hand over the skirt of her dress, "But you know what they say, my dear girl?"

"What?" Madison looked up at her, her baby blue eyes lighting up.

"This too shall pass," Ethel said sagely and then promptly brightened up, "So why don't you get off your butt, child? _Make_ things pass because sometimes it just takes too damned long to wait for whatever _it_ may be to move it's be-_hind_ and we'll do something fun in the meantime."

Her thick accent did its magic once more, perking the girl up and promptly getting her off her butt in bed. She laughed, following the older woman's lead as she swept out of the room grandly like some happy little dancing nymph and both of them headed back down the house.

And like it always did, Madison's laughter echoed throughout the home, removing any troubles and sadness that may have prevailed during the short moment of her silence.

Not too far down the hall, Kurt McVeigh stood just behind his opened bedroom door.

And then slowly, ever so slowly, he smiled.

-o0o-

Her morning had proceeded quite uneventfully.

Starting with breakfast she only consumed under the strict orders from the formidable Mrs. Wheedon, Diane Lockhart found herself simply going through the motions as Annie helped her prepare for her day. The luncheon to be held to benefit the Center for Battered Women and Children were holding high hopes with her appearance. Not only was she a hot commodity with her recent election, her current relationship with the administration certainly made her name pop more in the announcements for the event.

What more now with the headlines bearing her name once more, this time with the more titillating possibility that finally, there was a tangible link between her and a living, breathing member of the opposite sex.

It wasn't the first time she'd been put under speculation in her personal life. She was relatively quiet on that front and people were always interested if she would actually start dating. After all, more than enough time had gone since her husband's untimely passing and while for a moment it held the dogs at bay when people were still willing to respect the privacy of a widow, it had passed. Now, they were fully expecting the widow to have shed her shroud for grieving now and move on.

They may be ready, but Diane sure wasn't. In terms of dating in public, at least because she'd never done it—she and her husband were definitely private citizens back when they'd first met and married. Now, she was Diane Lockhart, the politician, the snappy dresser, the Ice Queen and people were beginning to take the turn from being simply curious to downright nosy.

What they didn't know though, as far as Diane was concerned, was that dating in her position, while she was still quite significant in people's minds, made the matter nearly impossible. And considering the fact that the man who'd been photographed with her less than twenty-four hours prior now had every relevant detail of his personal life splashed across the Tribune? Well, it certainly only solidified her belief that dating was simply not an available option for her at the moment.

Still lost in her thoughts, by the time she absently allowed Annie to leave her bedroom to get dressed, Diane managed to finally look at herself in the mirror. She flinched, not because of the way she looked—though she seemed pale—but because something else was scratching in the back of her mind that was making itself known on the surface.

Diane had been advised not to speak or have further relations with Kurt McVeigh. They were going to take care of the matter, it wouldn't be hard, that much they knew. And since they wanted nothing more than to put the whole thing behind them and simply move on forward, she couldn't risk being seen or associated with the man again, not when they were trying to make sure the story didn't get any further than it already had.

After all, the President's rumored possible new member for his Cabinet and once sought after possible running mate, could very well not afford to risk her current standing in the people's favor. And while they were quite pleased with the idea of Diane being linked to a man, she also knew the public could be very fickle. She could fall from grace just as easily as she could blink.

But even so, even if she entertained the idea of dating, Diane also knew that despite what she may want, she couldn't risk being seen specifically with Kurt McVeigh again. It was better that way—more for his and his daughter's sake because the public were as fickle as they were vicious. She would not put them through anything more than she'd done already, no matter how much she hadn't meant to.

She didn't even know them anyway, not truly and if it was better that way, then she could be adult enough to make sure nothing else came out of it. Diane was alright being a footnote in their lives, someone to mention in passing years along down the road. She herself was going through a transitional stage and if she wanted to leave the mark she had set out to leave when she'd begun all of this, then she couldn't afford to be blindsided by such matters.

Taking the outfit that had been laid out for her and managing another glance at her reflection, a voice in the back of her mind asked her quite simply how she was managing to convince herself of these thoughts, of her choices. Blinking at herself, she took a moment before deciding with a slight frown.

Not entirely well.

Shaking her head, she headed towards her bathroom, fully intending to change and start off her day. As it is, even though it was technically a time for rest, she was running behind schedule already. She had a luncheon to prepare for, a speech to give and a cause to make sure garnered enough attention to help charitable efforts thrive. That, and she had a hungry press pool to face who were most likely still quite eager to catch a glimpse of Illinois Senator Diane Lockhart.

She'd never been one to disappoint so Diane squared her shoulders and raised her chin up, both as a gesture of being resolute as well as one for defiance. She wouldn't disappoint but also wouldn't let them trample over her life like some uninvited and unwanted guest. If they wanted her, then they very well going to get her.

And nothing else.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Smartbottoms  
**

Generally speaking, Detective Tony De Luca was a pleasant man.

Well, maybe that was stretching it but he certainly was a good guy, despite his gruff exterior. He only ever became unpleasant in front of criminals and scumbags. Who wouldn't? And like any sane person, he doesn't react well when he feels like he's being boxed in _or_ when someone he cares for is facing any sort of negativity. Now, there, pleasant just goes right out the window.

But in terms of generalities? He's a pleasant man to be around, a perfectly reasonable man with a good head on his shoulders. In fact, in his gritty work, it may surprise people who don't know him well enough to find out he interacted best with children.

A largely built man with dark Italian eyes that came from his mother and large heavy hands that _have_ punched dents into the heavy metal tables of the precinct's interrogation rooms, he was surprisingly calm and, dare anyone say it, _soft_ around kids. Imposing as he was, the best way to get visible proof that there was more to the man than punching dents was to put him in a room with a small child.

But apart from that, no one was quite sure how else you could get the man to crack any easier. He was the true blue tough-as-nails hardened police detective with the rough edges to match. And as far as anyone knew, Tony De Luca was only ever less than the imposing man that he was around his wife who could certainly make him do things no other living being on earth could.

So it isn't a surprise when someone finds themselves meeting him the first time around they would be wary of him. A little afraid even because it was certainly understandable—he was a pleasant man only _after_ you get to know him and he's sure you _aren't_ a scumbag.

And he's also a smart man who is well aware of his effect on people. He likes it, in fact, because it certainly helps him with his job. It made smartasses think twice before trying to pull something in front of him—not that it always wins out of course because stupid has that uncanny ability and he's pretty sure that is pretty much out of his hands.

But despite all this, he's really a pleasant man.

So when he was introduced to the dark and lithe being that was Samantha Archer and was promptly left to handle her all by himself, he could not help but clench his fist and glower at the grinning stranger. He didn't know who she was personally, but he's heard of _Sam _Archer around and what he's heard, it wasn't all favorable.

It started with the fact of what she did for a living.

There wasn't a proper title for it yet. She was a consultant of sorts, but it was also known that she had a legal background. She was called in usually when shit hit the fan and when someone's ass needed to be covered like, say, a dumbass politico who managed to get caught with his pants down—literally and/or figuratively.

There would be the Eli Golds—political strategists who were in charge of fixing such slip ups and then, there was Sam Archer. The likes of Eli Gold, a man of his talents and caliber as well as his lesser endowed counter parts, could do things that would make people's heads spin when they did the spinning. The things they did—deflect, deny, spin, and run—could make some scandals slowly melt away. Sometimes they could even dress them in white lace and ruffles so well people would forget anything had ever been wrong in the first place.

But that didn't always work. Sometimes, things happen and they _cannot _just simply die down. Because despite what he may like to think, Eli Gold was not god so what more his less than perfect copies around the arena?

Enter Sam Archer.

She was the person to call on such occasions. Sam was not god either but she was a lot of other things and could do anything a client's fee dictated. Would that include killing? That would depend on certain things. Has she ever done it? Well, privilege would dictate she not answer that. Does that sound like the law? Yes. Is it? Does it matter when you're facing the likes of the petite Samantha dressed in iron, lace and lead?

Her work was undefined and she did not advertise. It was all purely word of mouth and whenever they spoke of her, the best description for what her was that Sam Archer was 'a fixer'—vague but not at all far from the truth. She did mostly behind the scenes work and her results were good—good in terms of she always got the job done. Was it all legal? Well, Sam's never been one to share secrets of any kind.

But De Luca had certainly heard more than enough whispers of her to be wary and not bother holding back his immediate reluctance to be around her.

"Miss Archer," he all but grunted, glancing around and finding that even Leah, who was the Superintendent's secretary, had somehow disappeared from her usual perch, leaving him awfully alone with the woman in black.

"It's Sam," the surprising girlish lilt of her voice didn't match the stone-like appearance of her ensemble and he knew it belied the woman made of steel underneath, "Detective De Luca."

"Tony," he muttered, "What can I do for ya, Mi—Sam? I'm not having the best morning right now and I'm—"

"I know," the woman shrugged, tilting her head to the side, "Actually, that's why I'm here. Scuttlebutt is that you know about a certain gun guy who happened to be on the paper today."

"Dunno what—"

Sam laughed quietly, "Oh, Detective, please. I'm sporting a bitching hangover and I'm standing on heels that are not helping matters. Let's not quibble about who's trying to hide what and get to the point. Kurt McVeigh. I want him and you know him. Go."

"Listen little lady—"

"I haven't been a lady since I was six, Detective, and that ended the moment I ripped the little prairie girl dress they had to wrestle me into," Sam cut him off with an impish smile, "And I certainly am little but I've gotten over that a long time ago."

She glanced around them before stepping towards the large man, her eyes meeting his dead on and asked with a smile full of sweetness and charm, "Now you've learned a thing or two about little ole' me. Where's Kurt McVeigh? Because I don't know about you, but I'm going to be pretty pissed if those goddamned reporters manage to get anything else from your friend that they haven't already ripped away."

De Luca could only blink, "Who the hell are you?"

"Just a girl with a job, Tony," Sam smiled, "And right now, my job is to help your friend."

"How the hell do I know—"

"We have mutual friends," Sam shrugged, "Super thought I could do some damage control. It's about time this beneficial arrangement the precinct has with Kurt McVeigh and his expertise were repaid, don't you think?"

De Luca could only stare at her, "You're saying the Super sent for you to help Kurt?"

Sam smiled, shrugging, "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yeah," the detective nodded, "Because I sure as hell know you're a little pricey for this place."

"I'm doing a special favor," Sam smiled, "Call it…a civic duty of sorts."

"You're bullshitting me, right?"

Sam grinned, "Yeah, I am, but what're you gonna do, right?"

De Luca stared at the younger woman and she merely gave him an angelic smile, batting her eyelashes innocently at him. Oh, she was good but he knew well enough about reading faces now. He could see what was underneath the surface of her dark eyes. She was young, but her eyes weren't. They'd seen things that had aged them, made them wise beyond her years by a tenfold. He didn't know much about Sam Archer except from what he'd heard in the past, but he was sure it was barely the tip of the iceberg.

And something told him that no matter how many times he can try and dodge her, she wouldn't let him off the hook quite so quickly. He wasn't that lucky and she wasn't that easy.

The older man sighed, coming to his own conclusions and decided some fights were never meant to be fought, "You're not gonna quit until I tell you, aren't you?"

"Nope," Sam smiled, "I could ask Super but I'm starting to find you really fun to be around."

"Oh, shit," the detective muttered, much to the younger woman's delight.

"Aw, see?" she laughed, patting him on the shoulder, "I don't know about you, Tony, but I think _this_ is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

The detective groaned and it only made Samantha Archer laugh even more. Clearly, she didn't find him so intimidating at all. Not his size, not his gruffness, not his demeanor. De Luca groaned inwardly then at the realization that somehow, this girl was going to be trouble for him. And he wondered if perhaps he'd just been had because it sure as hell felt like he'd just been screwed with his pants on.

Something told the poor detective his day just wasn't going to get any better.

-o0o-

"The transition team and ours have decided on a sit down with Caleb McKay."

Diane raised an eyebrow, "Caleb? How ever did you people manage that?"

"Magic," Annie teased lightly, "When we mentioned who we're calling for, he jumped on it. Chicago's very glad to have you back, ma'am, and McKay is more than eager to be the one to welcome you home for the holidays."

"It might be a little too late for that but I suppose I can appreciate his…enthusiasm," the Senator chuckled, "I hoping this will be something short? Thirty minutes?"

"He wanted an hour but Eli knocked him down," her aide answered, "They're haggling over it right now but Eli is adamant and angry so…"

Diane smiled, "He's not going to be in the mood to play."

Annie nodded, "He's very unhappy with reporters today."

"Of course…I'd love for this event to be included in it, at least," Diane mused, more than used to Eli and his ways. "When will this be?"

"Tomorrow," the younger woman answered, "Something short but just enough. Eli is already setting it up. McKay is trying to sway him into giving a full hour, something about rescheduling some big pop star or something."

"A pop star?" her eyebrows shot up.

Annie shrugged, "Promoting some movie or something, but with the attention you've been getting…well, you're the hot topic of the week."

"Well, don't I feel special?" Diane deadpanned.

"You should," Annie grinned, "We're at the cool kids' table now."

Diane rolled her eyes, "Fun."

Her aide smiled just as she reached beside her for the tablet she had set aside. Annie was tempted to say something but decided against it. Instead, she watched her employer in the corner of her eye as she opened the pages she had just left behind moments ago. She bit her bottom lip, unable to help the slight frown that appear on her pretty young face, looking away for a moment and sighed very quietly in an attempt to release the slight heaviness on her chest.

As far as the news went, it wasn't bad.

Well, not bad in a way that it was damaging—at least, not for Diane Lockhart because how could it be? The man she had been linked to was a decorated soldier who proudly served his country in combat. And not only was he a good soldier, he was also a single father who'd lost his wife in a tragedy that led to his situation, which he readily stepped up for. And despite of a divorce under his belt, he had an ex-wife who wouldn't dare speak against him.

His work was exemplary and he had a good reputation. The people who managed to say anything to the press only ever had good things to say about him. He was a man who always got the job done and had a spotless record. He had a lot of people who considered themselves friends but he was a simple man, it seemed. He kept to his work life and his personal life, mostly with his schedule centered along his daughter's. If there was anything to be uncovered about him that was negative in any way, no one had yet to find it.

Although, if anyone did find anything bad to say about the man, they _could _only try and turn the good tide over against him, but it wouldn't be a guaranteed shot. The personal tragedy of the death of his first wife would make it a hard hurdle to overcome. After all, a man losing his wife while he was away serving his country was hard to take a gamble against. That, and the fact that he also had a young child.

Kurt McVeigh was a single father raising his young daughter all by himself. By all accounts, he was a good parent who did a marvelous job of making his daughter happy. If there were any unpleasantness that occurred in the airport that day, the best anyone could get was the man's concern for his child that had been the source of any distress that had come of it.

So what else could they write about? Maybe those brooding brown eyes that more than a couple of female bloggers had felt the need to mention, maybe? Because as the story was getting picked up all around, the smaller members—the average joes and janes—of the blogosphere were also beginning to leech in as well.

Opinions were popping out everywhere and people had one thing or another to say. For the people tracking such things, the general consensus, it seemed, was that the public were truly very curious about the man that had been spotted with the Illinois Senator.

Annie had tried very hard to distract Diane from checking into the news and this time, it hadn't been a directive from Eli. Now, it was Annie trying hard to keep her from seeing more of whatever else they may have found on the man that might cause the Senator any distress.

But Diane forged on anyway, why? She wasn't sure. Maybe she wanted to wallow a little more in the guilt that was slowly burning its way through her inside. She hadn't meant for any of this to happen and no matter how many females—and a few males batting for the other team—swooned and sighed over the man, Diane was sure he couldn't possibly find any pleasure in anything anyone might write.

And in truth, neither could she.

Diane felt the brunt of the responsibility once more. She had done this to him, she thought sadly, swiping one lone finger along the screen of the tablet, biting the inside of her cheek. She had basically just ripped his life into shreds and allowed the world to barge into his personal life. Diane felt sick thinking about it, hurting over the mere thought she had caused this family the pain of having their lives laid bare for all the world to see.

So why keep track of the news and whatever else may appear? It hurt her knowing she was the cause of this and yet she could not look away.

Maybe this was her penance, her way of punishing herself. It wouldn't be enough, she believed, because she knew nothing could ever make up for the havoc she had wreaked in their lives. She wished she could tell them, apologize for what she had caused, for what a mere few hours from their lives they had so graciously lent her had led to. She wished there was some way to tell them she had never wanted this to happen, say the words that had been heavy in her mind since the morning began.

But then while Diane could apologize for their paths ever crossing but she knew she couldn't. Not truly because that would just be a lie. But she was sorry for what this had cost them though.

It wasn't fair, she decided somewhat bitterly, this was a man who'd done nothing except live a good life and be a good man. He didn't deserve this and Diane felt the ache within her deepen, knowing the blame was all on her and there was no taking back what had already been done.

But she could try and fix it, couldn't she?

She had sent Sam to do what was best and she had decided to stay away from both Kurt and Madison for good. Oh, Diane would have loved to get to know them, to have kept to her word when she said they would see each other again but it would be impossible.

In fact, as much as it only hurt more to think so, she was sure Madison would not want to see the woman who was the root the reason why her life had been turned into a public spectacle now.

Diane's hand clenched tightly, remembering the way Madison had smiled at her, the way she had all but thrown herself against her when she had said they would be seeing each other again. She bit the inside of her cheek, berating herself in silence. She should have known that had been a foolish thing to stake her word on. In retrospect, it had been incredibly naïve of Diane to say something so careless to someone so young and hopeful. She should have known better.

"Ma'am, we're almost there," Annie's voice broke into the Senator's thoughts, chasing away the last smile Diane could remember seeing on Madison McVeigh's face.

Handing the tablet back to Annie wordlessly, Diane gathered her wits about her just as the location of the event she was attending came into view. She smoothed down the front of her clothes and carefully pressed her lips together for a moment. In the distance, she could already see the press line filled to the hilt.

Diane refocused her attentions on the luncheon she was attending, mentally running down her own checklist in mind. She was there for a good cause and she was there to lend support to those who needed it but this was also work for her. Her presence was expected to give something for the shelter, to help it raise funds and continue to help more and more unfortunate souls. She couldn't afford to get caught up in her personal demons now, it was time for her to face the life she was living and forget the life she had had no right playing pretend in.

When the car slid to a stop, Diane readied herself and waited until she saw Justin Coyne come into view as he opened her door for her. She shed the last of what had been a short detour in her life until it was nothing but a fleeting thought, refocusing herself once more. She was well aware that this time there would be more people watching her everything move, trying to find something that would give them some kind of insight into her personal life.

Diane gracefully exited the vehicle, once more at her best and gave her most gracious attention on the assembled members of the journalistic community. She answered the questions that were related to the event and completely ignored the questions about her lack of an escort, some of them boldly hinting at the man in the papers. She gave them what time she could allot, making sure to mention the shelter and put forward the support that was sorely needed to keep the place thriving before moving towards the doors swiftly and left the hungry pool behind.

Once inside, the Senator had taken over and all thoughts of brooding brown eyes, excited warm hugs and girlish laughter were forgotten.

But even then, she couldn't deny that they still lingered on the fringes of her mind.

-o0o-

"It's perfect!"

Ethel De Luca looked up just in time to see a flour covered Madison McVeigh jump up and down in front of her oven. She smiled, tightening the apron around her waist as she made her way around the kitchen island to see for herself. Already the entire kitchen had been enveloped in the scent of freshly baked pastries and cinnamon.

"Ooh, let me see, sugar," she moved towards the oven, opening the door and smiled with great approval at the perfectly baked cookies. "Yep, that's exactly how it looks like. Perfect!"

"Yes!" the girl laughed, reaching for the oven mitts only to have someone grab the scruff of her collar, "Wh—dad!"

Kurt McVeigh looked down on his only child, "Don't even think about it."

"I'm just grabbing my cookies, don't they smell nice?"

"Yeah, but I think you ought to leave that for your Aunt Ethy," he looked over her head and at the woman who was nodding at him, "You're kinda accident prone, kid. It won't end well."

"Dad," the girl whined, turning to face her father with a slightly mutinous expression, "I'm not a klutz, you know."

"Ya kinda are," he chuckled, brushing at her cheek gently where a thick patch of flour had somehow ended up, "Were you baking or taking a bath in dough?"

Madison gave him a mock glare, "It got a little messy, I know, but look at them! They are _perfect_! I can bake, dad!"

"That you can, sweetie," Ethel trilled, pulling out the tray herself before popping the door of the even back, "Now, come here daddy dearest and taste your baby's first ever perfect tray!"

"I don't wanna."

"Wh—dad!" Madison looked offended, eyes wide.

"You first so I know you're not trying to kill your old man."

The girl reached forward, clocking her father playfully on the shoulder, "Smartass."

"Language, Madison."

"Fine," she smirked, "Smartbutt work for ya? Or Smartbottom? Smart-tushy?"

Kurt and Ethel laughed and Madison grabbed a cookie from the tray, letting out a gasp when her fingers felt the heat of the fresh pastry. She tossed it from one hand to the other, dancing a jig on her feet for a moment before letting it settle into her palm when she was able enough to hold it without feeling any pain. She turned to face her father, grinning happily, "Cookie?"

He feigned wariness at her before taking a bite as she held it. He gave her a few seconds, chewing thoughtfully before smiling at her, "Perfect."

"Yes!" Madison laughed, grabbing his chin happily and pressed the rest of the cookie between his teeth. She danced away, grabbing a plate for her creation and began to put them on them to display them proudly. She was going to show Big Tony she could bake after the last few times he had maligned her then-undiscovered abilities when she'd inquired about Ethel giving her some lessons.

Kurt took the cookie in his hand, smiling at Ethel as he watched his daughter. She was leaning against the counter too, shaking her head at the girl as she began to sing to herself, wiggling her pajama-clad butt to a song only she knew.

He motioned her forward and she followed, leaving the girl to her own devices now that she was well and away from any hot surfaces.

"Tony called about meeting someone for work," Kurt said quietly, "Ethy, would you mind—"

"Not at all," Ethel readily replied, "I'll keep her occupied. Don't you worry."

"I hope we're not ruining any plans—"

"Kurt," Ethel placed a hand on his arm, silencing him, "Family is family, do you understand that? You and Madison are family. We stick together. Now, go do what you have to and I'll take care of your girl, alright? We'll be fine."

He stared at her for a moment before nodding, kissing her on the cheek, "Thanks, Ethy. Don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to know, honey," she winked at him before turning towards the girl who was just finishing up with her last cookie, "She's enjoying her time away from school. They sent her work over and we'll work on it but right now, she's pretty into the baking thing."

"She's not bad, right?"

"Not at all," Ethel grinned, "She's having fun with it."

"Good to know," he looked around their kitchen, unable to miss the holy mess his little thirteen-year-old tornado had caused, "Make sure _she_ cleans it up, alright?"

"Of course," Ethel smirked, "She's gotta learn to take the bad with the good."

Kurt chuckled, "Ah, Mrs. D, you're my kind of lady."

"Well, aren't you just the sweetie," Ethel pinched his cheek and lightly tapped it before moving on towards the island once more, "Hey, sugar, your Daddy's goin' out. Why don't you give him something for the road?"

"I thought you were cooking today?" Kurt asked, watching as his daughter reached into a drawer for a Ziploc bag.

Madison shrugged as she began putting cookies in for him, "I found out I really, really _don't_ like onions _and_ baking is more fun."

"And you love sugar," he said knowingly, smiling when she turned to him with a full bag, "It looks like you just put everything in there. Don't you want any?"

"Sure," Madison smiled, "I'm making more."

"Of course," he nodded and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him in a warm hug, "Going out for a bit, alright, kiddo? Be good to your Aunt Ethy and clean up this mess—_you_ not her, hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Madison mumbled playfully, "Slave driver."

"Smartass," he ruffled the top of her head.

"That's smartbottom to you, sir," she turned her nose up at him, "Language, Mr. McVeigh, language!"

Kurt chuckled, kissing the top of her head before sending her off towards what was left of her cookies, "I'll see you both later, alright?"

Ethel waved her goodbye, giving him a smile of reassurance as he headed out.

"Bye, dad," Madison followed him a little, "Love you."

"Love you too, smartbottom," he tossed over his shoulder, waving the bag of cookies at her.

Her laughter followed him as he walked out the door.

-o0o-

Sam Archer liked milkshakes.

In fact, she liked them so much, she'd already finished two as she sat waiting with Detective De Luca in the small ice cream parlor a few blocks off the precinct. She'd chosen the place to meet with Kurt McVeigh, of course, but that was mostly due to the fact that she wanted a milkshake more than anything else pertaining to this particular meeting.

"Are you sure you don't want any…" she paused, tilting her head sideways as she observed the man sitting across from her, "Tony? I am allowed to call you that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," the older man muttered, nursing his own strawberry shake though he'd barely done much with it except stir it now and again, "And no thanks. I'm fine."

"You're not a chatty man, are you?" Sam sighed, "I thought so. I mean, for a man of your history, your experience…well, I certainly get it."

"What exactly do you know about me?" De Luca asked, "And who really sent you? I'm not buying the whole bullshit with the Super."

"You don't think much of Mike O'Neill, do you?" Sam grinned.

"He's a good man," De Luca shrugged, "But he's also a bureaucrat and a damned good politician. It's no secret the budget's under review and there's not a damn way he's gonna risk that for-for whatever the hell is going on with the—"

Sam watched as the detective stopped, his eyes widening for a moment before a frown settled over his features. She smiled—it was fun watching the cogs turn in his head. It hadn't taken long for him to get it and it had been fun watching him resist questioning her when he'd been so curious. She hadn't lied when she'd told him she'd taken a shining to him. The detective was fun to have around.

De Luca pointed a finger in her direction, "Tell me she didn't."

"She didn't," Sam shrugged, always ready to accommodate.

The detective glowered at her, "You're lying."

She shrugged as she sipped at her shake happily, smacking her lips before looking at him with a twinkle in her eye, "Well, technically, I'm not. You said to tell you she didn't. So I said she didn't. I was following orders so that cancels out the truth."

De Luca growled, "Stop screwing around. Did she send you to deal with Kurt?"

Sam merely looked at her, quirking an eyebrow ever so slightly.

The detective, sharp as always, didn't miss it, "Son of a bitch…"

"Tony—"

"What, this gets in the way of whatever political bullshit she's dealing with so she's going to just toss him aside and have you take him out of the equation and—"

Sam nearly spat out her drink, her dark eyes darting towards the detective, the mirth disappearing in a blink as she reared forward, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"That-that—she sent you to—"

"—she sent me to help your friend," Sam hissed, her voice controlled but the quick flash of anger she'd felt not hard to miss.

"What? You? Help? I've heard of your work, you—"

"—do a lot of things you obviously don't have any idea about," Sam said, calming quickly as she glanced around them to see if they'd attracted any unwanted attention. "You're a smart man, detective, jumping to conclusions like an idiot is unbecoming."

"You're not here to get rid of the problem? Sweep him under the rug?"

Their eyes met and for a moment, neither said a work until she began to nod slowly, twisting the bendy straw between her fingers before she began to speak once more.

"You know, detective? I'm really beginning to like you," Sam began, "And you're a good guy. I get it, you're protective, but…word to the wise?"

She glanced at the windows outside, one corner of her lips curling upwards before she leaned forward and looked at the older man right in the eye, "Don't you _ever_ say one bad thing about Diane Lockhart around me again because I _will_ have no choice but to become very unpleasant."

De Luca's eyebrows shot up and she gave him a firm look for a second before smiling at him once more, the harsh look she had given him dissipating so quickly as if it had never been there.

"She's a good one, Tony," Sam shrugged, leaning back and began to stir what little was left of her beverage, "Hard as it may be to believe, there are still some genuinely good politicians around. She's one of them."

"And you?"

"I'm just a girl with a milkshake," Sam beamed at him, taking a long sip of her drink as her dark eyes watched him, cold but calm, "I'm here to get rid of any problems that may come. To protect your friend and his daughter from, well, anything—like, say, rude nosey little reporters—or rats, as I like to call them, personally."

De Luca, still taking in the darker words she had imparted but recovering quickly from them, continued on with his fact-finding, "Isn't this a little too much? I mean, you're not exactly into child's play, which technically, this one is. For you."

She shrugged one shoulder, "My reasons are my own."

"Alright," De Luca nodded, "Why'd you lie about who got you into this?"

"She doesn't want him to know who called me," she answered honestly, "You're naturally suspicious and it'd help if I have you on my corner selling this little white lie so you're sticking to the same story, aren't you? Or do I have to call Mike?"

De Luca shook his head, "Unbelievable…just unbelievable. I knew she was trouble."

"It runs in the family," Sam chuckled, taking a long sip only to empty her drink suddenly. She looked down, frowning, "Damn, I'm out."

"Why don't you get another?" the detective quipped sarcastically.

"Best idea yet," Sam winked, her eyes lighting up.

De Luca frowned, "Aren't you sick of them already?"

"Nope," Sam quipped, standing up, "I'm going to get another one and _you_ have a friend coming."

And as if right on cue, Kurt came up behind him, "Uh, Tony?"

"Hello, Mr. McVeigh," the dark haired woman beamed, "I'm Sam but I'll be right back. Would you like anything?"

"Uh, no, thank you," Kurt replied, giving his friend a questioning look who merely waved at him to come take a seat.

"Okay," she replied cheerfully, moving on to the counter once more, waving her empty glass at the attendant who was already in the process of getting her another, "Keep 'em coming, handsome!"

Kurt took his seat across from De Luca who was stirring his drink, his eyes tracking the unusual young woman, "Who was that? Is she with you?"

"Yeah," De Luca looked at his friend, nodding as he pushed his own glass aside, "Someone Super wants you to talk to."

"Why would—"

"I'm back," Sam plopped down on the seat between the two men, a fresh milkshake in hand and a truly happy grin on her face, "So, what're we talking about boys?"

De Luca looked right at her, "Why the Super called you in, of course, Miss Archer."

Sam beamed, her eyebrows shooting up and down for a moment before turning to Kurt McVeigh who looked just as baffled as he did when he'd first come in. The man barely had any time to react before the strange woman turned to him, her pretty dark brown eyes falling on him with a twinkle.

"So, Mr. McVeigh, I hear you've got a bit of a rat problem…"

-o0o-

"You know, I'm beginning to think I should just give you a key."

Diane Lockhart smiled, looking up from her position on the couch once more. She was in better spirits than the night before and this time, she had better reasons for them. She was still dressed in the _Dolce & Gabbana_ she had put on that morning but she was reasonably more comfortable now after having shed the overcoat that came with the outfit, leaving her in a cream silk top and a skirt.

Not at all different from the night before, Will Gardner stood across the room only this time he was dressed in a suit. As far as ominous calls went, his friend's aide had managed to leave quite a cryptic one about someone being in his house shortly before he was set to clock out from work. He smiled lazily at the sight of his repeat intruder.

"How exactly do you keep getting in here?" he looked around, as if expecting something to come out of the shadows, "You didn't use your goon squad, did you? I forgot to ask last night."

"Of course not…Barry's a sweet man," she shrugged, "He's still very grateful about that call I put in for his daughter three years ago."

"Ah, that. I'm not surprised—a full n ride in MIT is hard to forget," Will winked, "So I'm guessing you don't need a key from me if you have my building manager on your corner?"

Diane shrugged with a smile, "You could still get me that. It's the thought that counts."

"Enjoying your book?"

"Your book, actually, and why, yes I am."

Will chuckled, walking into the room and put his briefcase aside, slipping off his coat before plopping himself down on the couch. He watched her, his head tilted sideways, "I'm surprised to see you here…and looking better than the night before."

"You didn't think I'd come back?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you had some thing to go to," he shrugged, "And I assumed after Eli's little temper tantrum last night, you'd be in a hold out or something."

"Eli's with his daughter tonight," Diane sighed, "And I cancelled on…something. I'm not really in the mood to party tonight."

"I'm not surprised," he nodded, "I saw the paper today."

"Ah, yes…the paper," she looked away, running her hand through her hair, "I've been fighting the urge not to scream about that."

"You never mentioned his name," Will pointed out, watching her closely. "I know him."

Diane stopped and looked up, her eyes widening a little, "You know him? Kurt McVeigh?"

He nodded, "Yeah. He's worked with us a few times. The Broussard case—lost my expert, got him as a replacement at the last minute."

She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head, chuckling quietly, "Of course…"

"He's the best in the business," he said, "I call him when I can or when he's not working for Uncle Sam…I have to say though, I had no idea about, well, about much of what they found out."

"Neither did I," Diane sighed, closing the book she'd been reading and put it aside, "I…I feel terrible about everything."

"I thought you might," Will nodded, tilting his head to the side. "But it isn't your fault."

Diane gave him a look, "Don't even try. Not you too. I can't have you people coddling me."

"I'm not coddling you—I wouldn't. I'm just telling you the truth," he shrugged, "It's horrible, what happened, yes, but you can't shoulder that, Diane. Reporters are scum and they do what they do. That was out of your control."

She frowned, "But if I'd just stayed out of their lives, they—"

"Diane."

She looked at her friend, seeing the affection underneath the firm look he was giving her, "It's not your fault."

"I can still feel bad about it, can't I?"

Will shrugged, looking up for a moment before standing up, "Two seconds. I'll go get a drink, see what you've done to my kitchen and we'll talk more about this fabulous life Senator Lockhart is living that a mere mortal like me couldn't possibly have any idea of."

Diane smiled weakly, watching him as he made his way to his own bar, "Not so fabulous."

"She lies," he pretended to hiss, chuckling as he faced her, a bottle of bourbon in hand and two tumblers, "Dinner?"

"One of your favorites since I was practically breaking and entering again," she hummed, "And honing in on your evening…I hope I'm not getting in the way of whatever you may have planned for tonight?"

"My only plans for tonight were reading a brief and trying to make sure David Lee and Julius Caine don't end up killing each other," Will replied, "Don't worry about it. What about you? No ritzy parties I should feel flattered you traded me for?"

"A little thing at Highland Park," she replied, "I decided to skip…well, actually, I skipped out on your old friend."

Will raised an eyebrow, "_My _old friend?"

"Yes, you might remember her? Alicia Florrick," Diane smirked, "The Governor's wife."

"Ah, Alicia," Will chuckled, "I'd ask how she is, but I think I just saw her on the cover of _Good Housekeeping_ or something."

"That you did," Diane smirked, "I hope you don't mind but I told her I was catching up with you last night. She asked about you…shared a humorous tale from the early life of the great William Paul Gardner, aspiring baseball star and law school heartthrob."

"I'd forgotten you and Peter are pretty chummy," Will grinned, "God, Alicia and I haven't seen each other in…years."

"That's because you never come to the ritzy parties," Diane smirked, "I've invited you over the years, you always say no."

"Politics, meh," Will shrugged, "I like my corner. Anyway, so Alicia talked about me?"

"Oh, yes," Diane smiled wickedly, "She had quite a few things to say about you. Did I ever tell you we like to bond over margaritas? I owe her a bottle."

Will laughed, "This I have to hear…" he motioned his head towards the kitchen, indicating it was time for them to eat and Diane stood up, smoothing down her skirt before glancing at the phone in her hand.

There were no missed calls or unread text messages and somehow, she didn't know whether to be glad or not. She told herself the only reason she was checking was for her team, to see if anything was happening. And yet, there was a part of her that told her quite simply she was checking for something else entirely, which she inwardly scoffed at because it was ridiculous to hope for anything else, wasn't it?

She placed her phone on the coffee table before heading towards the kitchen, ignoring the lingering thoughts of a man she more than knew she could not have, let alone expect anything from. She fixed a smile on her face, thankful to at least have been given another chance to spend more time with her friend. She hadn't wanted to intrude again, but she'd thought hard on who she wanted to be around that night and not be alone. She couldn't think of too many people and the easiest person she could get to without hassle was Will. She was only glad he was being such a sport about having her continuously barge in on him so suddenly.

It was a good thing Eli and Coyne's team felt better about letting her out that night. The team was in place somewhere in the building—she had fought hard against having any one of them in Will's home—and their orders were clear and in place. She was glad she'd been allowed to have some down time after her day and the rest of the hoopla of her being linked to a stranger had caused.

So glad that she didn't even dwell on the fact that she needed to be 'allowed' to do certain things people who led a more-qualified-to-pass-for-normal lives did freely any damned day of their existence. Diane was trying very hard not to let the beginning of her day affect her night. The luncheon had gone well and despite Alicia Florrick's protests and threats, she had managed to dodge a night of explaining just what was going on because Diane wasn't entirely sure even she could truly explain.

"So, what did you do?"

Diane looked up, eyebrows raised as she made her way into the kitchen barefoot, "What?"

"I know you did something," Will shrugged, leaning against the kitchen island, "For Kurt."

She was almost prepared to lie, but decided against it. Will had known her too long to figure out some of her tells quickly already, "I called in a favor…from Samantha."

Will thought for a moment, nodding, "Not a bad choice. She can handle anything, including pesky parasites called reporters. And I know she hates them."

"You don't think it's excessive?"

"Nah," he shook his head, "Sam knows how to pull her punches. She's a pro and she'd do anything for you, that includes tamping down the urge to kill that comes so naturally for her."

Diane smiled, "She's got a good handle on her temper."

"On certain matters," he smirked, "How is Sam?"

She gave him a look, "I would have thought _you_ would have more information on the matter than I do, considering…"

Will looked at her, his expression changing for a moment before he shrugged, "Sam and I…"

She stopped, nodding for a moment, "I wasn't aware…I'm sorry?"

He shrugged, "It's complicated. Well, _we're_ complicated. So, how is she doing?"

"Settling nicely," Diane answered, "Still not entirely enjoying being back Stateside. She says it has too many people, it…_unnerves_ her."

"Too many people?" Will laughed, "What does she want? To go back to Third World hellholes? Because I'm pretty sure those places have _too many people_ too. In fact, don't they have _more_?"

Diane shrugged, "I haven't talked to her yet."

"I will never get that woman," he muttered.

She smiled at him knowingly, "And that's why you couldn't help it…when you first met her."

"I guess I like complicated," he winked, holding his hand out with a flourish for her like a true gentleman, "Shall we, Senator?"

Diane chuckled at his playfulness, "My, my, my, Mr. Gardner, aren't you just the charmer."

"What can I say?" Will gave her his trademark boyish grin as he led her to a seat, "You know just how to bring it out in me."

The two friends laughed as they prepared to share dinner once more and for a moment, the unpleasantness that she had been feeling began to ebb away just enough for her to feel a little lighter than before.

For tonight, she would spend it with Will Gardner once more, the only man who seemed to be capable of making her forget for a moment she was anyone but that-Senator-lady-from-Illinois. She just wanted another nice night of dinner and good conversation because she was sure by the time the holidays were over and January came in, everything would be up in the air once more.

After all, she was getting closer and closer to giving the final answer to the transition team that was in place for her twenty-four seven. They'd been waiting for an answer and with each day that passed, she could feel the pressure building gradually because whatever her answer may be, Diane was sure either way, things were just going to get even more complicated.

Whether or not she took the position, the coming New Year would still bring some significant adjustments in her life. Diane had accepted her mantle as a key player in the Beltway already and with her ties and friendships, she knew everything else was just going to keep coming at her. She wanted a little touch of normalcy before then, just a taste of what life used to be like before she became _the _Diane Lockhart the world seemed so eager to know and hold on to.

She needed this before she had to brace herself because this was it, this was the beginning for her—the detour that begun at the airport was truly coming to a close, she was sure of it. There would be no more thoughts of the man or that young girl, of what impossible possibilities she may have foolishly allowed herself to entertain as she played pretend. That was over and done with, no matter how she may feel about things personally—it was time to leave it all behind.

It was time to go back to her reality.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: The Happy Elf**

Waking up isn't always the best part of the day for some people.

But if you were a teenager getting an extended leave from school that might as well be an early Christmas break, you'd probably wake up smiling as much as Madison McVeigh did that Friday morning. That was out of the norm, considering that while she's actually quite a good girl, she was as much a pain as any other regular kid her age when it came to waking up in the morning. Short of having a bucket of water poured on her, to say waking up the girl for school was a challenge would be an understatement.

And it never failed to puzzle and amuse—in a resigned sort of way—her father how it was always easier for her to wake up on days when she _didn't_ have to go to school. It was like clockwork, give her a weekday off of school and she would be up buzzing as early as six in the morning.

Bounding down the back stairs that led to the kitchen like a thundering linebacker, the teen leapt off bottom of the steps with a flourish and a twist, a grin on her face and her feet in her favorite pair Uggs. Barely allowing a beat, she pointed one toe down and bent the other leg's knee back and gave one spin, echoing her early years of ballet before bellowing, "Good morning, father dearest!"

Kurt McVeigh, quite used to his only child's antics, merely shook his head and plated a perfect sunny-side up egg next to strips of bacon, "Good morning, daughter dearest."

"I smell breakfast," she announced, practically skipping to her seat and beamed at the sight of her plate, "Perfect sunnies! I like. Well done, grasshopper."

Her father snorted, play-acting along, "Glad you approve, master."

Madison laughed, pouring herself a glass of juice, "Did you see I baked more cookies?"

"Yep," he glanced at the filled to the brim sealed cookie jar on the kitchen island, "They're delicious. I think Tony stole a couple before heading home last night."

"Did he know I made them?" she grinned.

"Yes, Ethy told him," he sat down next to her, "He thinks you're both lying."

"Oh, he's so paying for that," Madison smirked, "Was I asleep already when you got home?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Sorry about that, Mads. Your Uncle Tony and I had to meet with someone Super sent for me…it took longer than we expected and you, surprisingly, fell asleep pretty early."

The girl sighed, "Yeah, you know what? It turns out it's _really_ hard to clean off flour when it gets wet and dries up. Not to mention all the sticky stuff the batter leaves behind…"

Kurt smirked, "That you tellin' me you actually cleaned up?"

Madison waggled her eyebrows at him, "Yep. It wasn't a cakewalk—ha! Pun intended—but I wanted to make sure I don't see your gloaty mean dad face if I bailed."

"Oh, that's why?" he chuckled. "And here I thought that was just cause you couldn't skate past that with your Aunt Ethy watching ya."

The girl wrinkled her nose at him, "Fine, yeah, that one too. But it was worth it. Baking _is_ fun. Aunt Ethy's gonna teach me some frosting stuff when we get to the country. How's Buster by the way? I miss him like crazy. Is he okay?"

Buster was the rescue dog they had taken in some years back. His age was undetermined as well as his breed but he was a clear mix of something. He walked with a permanent limp, an old injury that had occurred before Kurt had found him one stormy day on a highway outside Chicago. He had been intending to take the dog in and nurse him back to health then find him a home, but Madison had fallen in love at first sight. Ever since then, the dog had become an integral part of their little family and whenever he was around the girl, Buster never left her side and was fiercely protective of her.

For the trip to Washington, they'd decided to take him to their home in the country where they had a farm and caretakers who could look after the aging mutt. Madison hadn't liked the idea of leaving him in a kennel, surrounded by strangers and other dogs and being put in a cage. Kurt had agreed and by now, he was sure the girl was missing the old dog terribly, considering she wouldn't be seeing him for another week and a half.

"He's doing fine," he answered, "I checked in this morning—he's enjoying being in an open field bigger than the park again but he does miss you."

"I miss him too," the girl sighed, poking her egg, "I can't wait to see him."

Kurt nodded, "Ethel said you got your schoolwork yesterday? How's that going?"

"It's going," Madison wrinkled her nose, "They're sadists. I'm behind…who's surprised? But they promised more for today and the rest of the days I might miss…" she stopped, looking at her father with slightly downcast eyes, "Am I going to be able to go back to school before Christmas break?"

"I think so," he nodded, "How many days do you have left? Three, right? I think by Monday it should be okay already to go back."

Both father and daughter didn't even dare to skirt around the issue as to why she was even being kept away from school in the first place. Madison was still unsure about how her father felt about everything, unwilling to be the cause of reminding him of any unpleasant feelings that might or might not be there. She wanted so much to ask how he was and she'd never had a problem doing so before, but something told the girl that this was different. He wasn't even this affected during the divorce which made it even clearer to her that there were things he wasn't entirely too willing to open up about yet.

She wasn't sure how he felt about a certain blond politician and while she did truly like the woman she didn't want to risk making her dad sad or upset. Instead, she smiled and teased, as they always did, and carried on with what she did best which was make him laugh.

Kurt, on the other hand, wasn't too much unlike his daughter. He knew the girl was very fond of the Senator but he was unsure how she felt _now _about the woman. After all, she hadn't reacted too well when she'd found out about the paper initially the day before. Ethel had assured him she was alright and he wanted to talk to her about it at some point, but he decided to wait a little to see if she would open up first.

They wouldn't say the words but it was how it had always been between the two—they protected each other and looked out for each other. It was a shared bond, a close relationship and they were dealing with something that neither had encountered before. They had connected with someone else, separately and collectively, but that connection had been cut short as sudden as it had been made. They were no stranger to loss, but this was different, more complicated than a divorce or even a death.

Even though the divorce had been hard and sad, this suddenness of everything was harder to take. An instant bond had formed only to be severed by complete silence. Both felt that it wasn't malicious, that it hadn't been done out of spite or ill-will, but it was still a loss of sorts. It was hard to have something that had barely had a chance to truly form be ripped away and it gave a sense of utter lack of closure which was not something that anyone could easily surpass.

It was confusing enough to have connected with someone so different yet so similar to them both at the same time, but then to add the media, the public scrutiny as well as the invasion of their privacy? It was about as easy to handle as crossing a tightrope in a high-wire act.

So, instead, while still feeling quite on uneven ground as well as maybe a touch of fear with a little bit of insecurity, the father and daughter carried on as if nothing had changed, as if it was business as usual. It was easier than discussing the loss of such a presence anyway, especially considering the presence was practically still nothing but a stranger even though deep in their hearts, they truly felt she was anything but.

Madison smiled, "Awesome. My friends are seriously going nuts trying to keep me posted on everything that's going on _and _Mandy told me something about one of our classmates going berserk so you see my little dilemma, daddy dearest?"

"I do," he nodded and then paused, "Your classmate went berserk?"

He's probably been doing his job a little too long when his mind goes straight to something entirely more serious and volatile. It didn't help that her first go to the day before had been to ask whether there'd been a shooting in her school. He didn't want to entertain the possibility of such a nightmare coming true.

But Madison's mind seemed to be clear off that particular path, "Lisa, remember her?"

"Franks," he nodded, remembering the girl quite well. Kurt made sure to be up to date with his daughter's school calendar and never missed appointments and meetings. It was only an added instinct that was probably due to being in his line of work that led him into making sure to remember as much of her schoolmates as he possibly could, especially the boys in her class. Not that Madison was aware.

It wasn't an invasion of his daughter's privacy and he would truly defend his stance on the matter. Kids were different now and times had changed. His child was his top priority and watching over her took precedence over everything else, including her personal feelings.

"That one," she nodded, "She's not doing too well. Mandy thinks it's some kind of a breakdown."

"She's thirteen," he frowned, "What's there to have a breakdown about?"

"Over achiever," Madison shrugged, "I don't know. We're not close. Anyway, so about my slumber party?"

"Don't tell me," he looked up from his plate, watching her closely, "Another name?"

"Actually," the girl grinned, "Taking one name off…Becca's going to California for the break."

Kurt's eyebrows rose, "Really? Well, good for her."

"Yeah," Madison nodded, "We're gonna miss her…plus, Mandy and I have some plans. It's going to be epic."

"Epic," he gave her a look, "Tell me I won't be bailing you guys out before the night's over."

She gave him a wicked grin, "Oh, dear father, that's going to be the least of your worries."

Kurt stared at her for a moment and barely suppressed the urge to jump when she suddenly burst into laughter, dropping her fork.

Madison's laughter was not too far from a cackle, "Man, you should have seen the look on your face!"

He couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face, shaking his head at her before continuing with his meal. Kurt McVeigh was more than aware his only child might be a little evil for other parent's tastes. She was a thirteen-year-old with quite an interesting depth of knowledge when it comes to psychological exploitation and she wielded that particular power deliberately and generously. With him, it was used for teasing and mainly for her own harmless amusement, with people she disliked—initially her stepmother, a.k.a. victim/experiment number one, during the earlier days of their relationship and she had been _way _younger then—it was all about leaving them bothered and unstable.

Madison was delightful and wonderful, but her father was not naïve to the fact she was quite capable with some crafty mischief all on her own. But she was his and he loved every single part of her, even the ones that left others a little unnerved.

She was trouble personified but oh, how he adored her.

-o0o-

"We really have to stop meeting like this."

De Luca looked up from his paper grumpily, "Miss—"

"Ah-ah-ah," Sam Archer waved a finger at the older man, her other hand swaying slightly as she held a cup of filled-to-the-brim milkshake. "Tony…"

"_Sam_," the detective scowled a little, "Got things done on your end?"

"Why, yes, Tony," the younger woman trilled, taking a seat across from him, "I got an entire press corp to completely back off in less than 12 hours. Come on, man! I'm not allowed to use firepower here or even flashbang grenades. Don't expect miracles, alright?"

"Hey, I've got a kid who needs to get back to school and a father who needs to get on with his life," De Luca growled, "It's the holidays and don't screw with me, I've heard the stuff you can pull."

"Aww, a fan," Sam preened then frowned, "Okay, I spoke with a few people and no, I didn't play nice. I can control the mainstream press and I can even staunch the flows in blogs—do _not_ ask—but I'm not secure on the mealy mouthed little rats who fancy themselves as photographers."

De Luca smirked, "So, how you planning to fix that?"

"I've got some ideas," she smiled mischievously as she took a long sip of her milkshake, her eyes dancing. They decided to meet in the same place from the day before but that had been more her decision than his and Sam was more than happy to indulge in her favorite drink once more.

"You can't blow 'em up, kid."

She let go of the straw she'd been sipping through with a slight pop, "Why must you insist on ruining my fun?"

"Because you're in my town and in my town, you don't make things go boom like this is Fallujah."

Sam gave him a look, "Fine. I've got markers, alright? And I can secure your guy…and his kid. Tell her she's safe to go back to school. I have some people looking after them."

De Luca narrowed his eyes, "What people? You put a tail on Kurt?"

"Not necessarily a tail…"

"You know the guy has some training, right?" the detective pointed out, "He might've left the warzone, but you know he's been doing work with some people, right?"

"I know he's been doing some work in Virginia," Sam nodded, "I'm well aware of his background, history and clearance level. Impressive, by the way…and somewhat surprising for a private citizen."

"He's a private citizen who works with several government agencies," De Luca shrugged. "They have working relationship that's more…specialized. His clearance level just enables him to not keep going through the same hoops for the same jobs."

"Meh, I don't care," Sam shrugged, "Not like he has access codes to the nation's defense military plans, right?"

"I wouldn't go that far," De Luca snorted, "But why pretend you don't already know?"

A slow wicked smile crept along her crimson lips, "You really think I'm some kind of omnipotent being, don't you, detective?"

"Well, basing on what I know—which, by the way, I'm sure isn't even the tip of the iceberg—you have certain talents that aren't too far from that."

"So many compliments in one day," Sam sighed and pretended to fan herself a little, "I can only imagine how lucky Mrs. D must be having such sweet hubby like you, Tony."

"Yeah, I'm a peach," he rolled his eyes, "So, Sam, what else are you working on here, anyway? I mean, doesn't this mean your job's over?"

"Hmm," she shrugged, "I'm not a love 'em and leave 'em type…well, not too often. I'm good at following up."

"Dedicated," he carelessly folded his paper and put it aside, smoothing it down with a heavy hand, well and away from her drink.

"Hey, s'long as it's not on my dime, ya know?"

De Luca snorted, "Ripping off the good Senator, eh?"

"I wouldn't dare," she hummed then glanced a little around her before giving him a look, "She's adamant about seeing this through. As well as keeping her involvement discreet."

He glared slightly at her, "I won't squeal if you won't."

"I don't squeal and I am well aware you don't," she crossed her arms over her chest, "But he's a friend and you certainly are the loyal type."

"My main priority is keeping my family safe, Sam," he rumbled, "If that includes lyin' to them, so be it. As long as whatever crap that Senator of yours has brought onto their doorstep stops, I'm fine."

"You make it sound like it was all her fault," she bristled, "It wasn't, Tony. Shit happens."

He snorted, "Yeah, well, that shit is affecting _my _friends and it's 'cause of her. What do you expect from me? I am the loyal type, aren't I?"

"You're also supposed to be smart but you keep pushing the blame around like some headless chicken," Sam quipped, "It's not making you look good."

"Are we really having an argument over whose fault this is?"

"You're arguing it's all her fault, I'm saying shit happens. Not entirely accurate."

Tony frowned, "Fine. It's not _all_ her fault."

"And she's making up for it," she pointed out, using her straw to stir her drink slightly, "That's a lot more than you can expect to say had it been anyone else. Actually, if it had been anyone else, I _don't_ think we'd even be here. How many high powered politicians would do the things she's done, go as far as she's gone?"

"You see, that's what's bugging me too," Tony raised an eyebrow, smirking now that he'd finally found a way in, "What's up with that, anyway? I get the plane ticket, I get helping them to the hospital…why stick around? Why send _you_ when she could have just walked away before anyone could ever find out and none of this would have happened?"

Sam smiled a little, "You wouldn't understand, Tony."

"And you would?"

She nodded a little, "A lot more than you could ever, I think."

"Oh, really, is this a woman thing?"

"No, Tony," she tilted her head to the side, "This has nothing to do with being a woman."

"Then what?"

Sam looked at him for a moment, her dark eyes piercing as if she was trying to see something underneath the surface he wasn't showing her. He matched her look, breathing in deeply through his nose as she continued to simply look at him until she started to shake her head slowly.

"You wouldn't understand."

He was getting impatient, "Then _make_ me understand."

"I couldn't if I tried, detective," she gave him a warning look, "It's not that simple."

De Luca glared at her, "If this is about atonement, she didn't have to. She should have just walked away."

"You know it doesn't always work that way," she shrugged, "Stop trying to get me to explain to you what I don't even have the proper rights to. I'm doing my job, Tony. That's it. You do yours."

"I think this is beyond a job for you, Sam," he looked at her, "What's the Senator got on you, huh? Why're you under her thumb all of a sudden? Didn't even know you knew each other."

"Didn't know you kept tabs on me either, detective."

"I wasn't but like I told you, this is my town and she's a heavy player," he said, "It's my job to know. So, what'd you do, Sam? You could shake her off like a fly, you certainly have the arsenal for it."

"Because I can't shake her off, Tony," Sam hissed, "I don't _want_ to. Get that?"

He looked at her, his eyebrows jumping slightly, "You _don't _want to…wh-who…how do you know her?"

"That's none of your business," Sam said, her eyes glowering for a moment before her expression dissolved into a friendly smile, "You don't have the clearance level, detective. Now, your friend on the other hand…"

De Luca scowled at the younger woman, "It's gonna come out eventually, Sam."

"No, it won't," she shook her head, winking at him as she took another sip of her drink, "It's not a conspiracy, you know. We know each other. That's it."

He glared at her.

"But something's bugging you," she nodded, "Fine. Alright. She's my girlfriend, Tony. How about that?"

"Oh, bullshit."

She chuckled, "Okay, okay. I am her secret lovechild…do the math and it means she got knocked up in high school and I'm the happy little result. Hello!"

"Jesus H. Christ," he grumbled, ducking his head slightly.

The woman simply laughed, "Aww, Tony, I'm sorry. Am I being too naughty?"

"Are we done here? Unlike you, the rest of us have more than one thing on our plates..."

"Nah, now that's a lie," she smirked, "Super always gives you the holidays light. I hear Ethel—your wife—has something to do with that but I won't pry. Unlike you, _I _have a little more restraint."

"Super has a big mouth, I think."

"He does but he's not the guy who told," she snorted, looking into her drink, "Besides, I know he took everything off your plate and rescheduled the rest. You, detective, are on McVeigh watch…is that why you're so pissed with our mutual friend?"

"She's not my friend," he grumbled.

Her drink was almost out, "Yeah, whatever. So, is that why you don't like her?"

"No, I don't like what her being in the picture has done, alright?"

"Well, you can't keep crucifying her for that," Sam shrugged, "I talked to the one responsible for leaking your friend's name, you know."

De Luca's head shot up, "What?"

"I did," she nodded, "It wasn't anyone from her end, I can assure you of that. I spoke with the person _and_ the reporter it was leaked to. Remember they barely had a photo of his profile?"

"Yeah."

"Someone recognized him," she shrugged, "Sharp eyes, if you ask me. Anyway, that's how McVeigh's name got out. Someone's fast mouth, slow brain."

"Who was it?"

She gave him a look, "You can't beat the crap outta him, Tony."

"Who. Was. I?"

"It's funny that you seem to actually think that will work on me," she smiled, "Cute."

"Spit it out, Archer."

"Last name, ooh," she pretended to shiver then sighed, "Not worth it, Tony. He's just a kid…some boy in blue and he's sorry. Didn't know he was talking to a reporter and that reporter is a crafty bitch—if anyone will be paying, it's her."

"You gonna bury a reporter, Sam?"

"Oh, no—I _wish_," she shook her head, "That's someone else's problem."

"Boy in blue…" De Luca began, "New kid. Green. Someone from _my _precinct?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Sorry, Tony. Harsh, I know, but it was unintentional."

"I don't care if it's unintentional! No talking to reporters!"

"The Super is dealing with it and—"

"I don't care, I want that kid!"

"Yeah, well, you aren't getting him," she said, "Let it go, man. What's done is done. Believe me, Super has is ass on a plate right now. He's not too happy working with me again, ya know."

De Luca snorted, "Who is?"

"McVeigh doesn't seem to mind."

"That's cause he has no clue about what or who you are."

"Still, he doesn't mind working with me," she shrugged, "Look, I'm almost out of my milkshake. I'm gonna get another one. You want? You need to cool off a little. Might help."

"You do know its December, right? It's freezing. What the hell are you doing drinking that crap?"

Sam smiled happily, "I like it."

He gawked, "It's goddamned freezing!"

"Yeah, it is, but haven't you heard, detective?"

"Heard what?"

She gave him a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming, "I have ice in my veins."

De Luca nodded solemnly, "That…I actually believe."

Her cackling laughter trailed after her as she pranced off for another fill.

-o0o-

"Not bad for a talking puppet head."

Diane smiled, "For a moment I thought you'd be a little less vicious for the holidays _but_ I guess I forgot who I was talking to, Eli."

"I'm a little Jew boy on Santa's permanent naughty list," Eli said, smirking as he sat next to her in the car, "I'm allowed to be cranky in the holidays."

The Senator chuckled lightly, "Well, that's one way of looking at it. When will this be airing again?"

Eli checked his phone, "Tonight. They moved the pop star to tomorrow's show. They're including some footage to spread the word on the shelter like you requested. Caleb threw that in as a nice little Christmas bonus of sorts."

"Well, how considerate of him," Diane said dryly, "I must say I'm surprised Caleb stuck to the deal. I was under the impression he was a loose cannon of sorts."

"He is, but Caleb and I have…an understanding," her Chief of Staff said quietly, "It's not out yet but there will be a piece about a certain reporter and a grudge match with her paper, trying to burn it to the ground in the wake of her possible replacement."

Diane raised an eyebrow, "Amelia Lange?"

"Well, I wouldn't be one to assume…" said the wicked gleam in his eyes as he tilted his head sideways.

"You know she'll figure it out, right? She will come after us."

"She can try," he shrugged, "But I can always promise I can finish her off. I've been quite hard at work, Senator, and I am proud to say it _has_ paid off."

Nodding, she didn't bother to question him further. She was quite upset with Amelia Lange herself but this was something Eli had set out to do and she understood. He had a mind of his own and contrary to what others may believe, he operated alone and did not need further prompt. Eli was her Chief of Staff but Diane would not presume to think naively she had full control of him. And what had happened with his deal that the overzealous reporter had breached was something between the two of them.

Plus, Diane wouldn't dare deny she was not pleased with having someone teach Amelia a lesson or two. She'd done her fair share of despicable things in the past, of that she was sure.

"Well, whatever you did," she smiled, "Thank you, Eli. That was a good interview. Excellent work."

"Thank you, Senator," he smiled, "I serve at your pleasure."

"Well, aren't you just the cat's pajamas?" she teased lightly, "Will you be joining us tonight?"

"To the ballet?" Eli nodded, "Marissa is intent on going."

Diane smiled, "That's nice. How is it being back with her anyway?"

"Can't complain," he admitted, "She's still driving me insane."

"She told me," Diane smiled, "Did she mention whether she will be joining me tomorrow for the Tree Hunt?"

"Yes, she did," Eli gave her a look, "What are you two planning? Am I going to be ripping my hair off clean my scalp by the end of tomorrow?"

"Of course not, Eli," she all but purred, "You have such lovely hair. We wouldn't do that to you."

Eli gave her a look, "With all due respect…"

She grinned, "I promise, Eli, we're not up to anything."

"Mrs. Florrick will be there," he pointed out, "I already know that's a bad idea. You, the Governor's wife and my daughter…I smell a national incident."

"Oh, you are so melodramatic."

"But I'm right. You three are a bad combination."

"Paranoid."

"Consistently trying to drive me up the wall—"

"Settle, Eli," Diane said in a calming tone, laughing lightly, "I promise, we are not planning anything. The event is very dear to me, I wouldn't do anything to sabotage it."

"Mhm," he nodded, "I swear, I know that look. Marissa has it too and if my sources are to be believed, so does Alicia Florrick. Individually, you three are a handful…together? I shudder to think…"

"You really should have more faith," she hummed.

"In you, I do, Diane," he frowned, "My daughter is a different story."

She chuckled lightly, "Eli, you really don't see it, do you? She's grown into such a lovely young woman…"

Eli nodded, "Yes, she has…around you, maybe. Me? She's gunning for me."

"Would you expect anything less?"

He couldn't help but smile, "I suppose not."

"So I spoke with Sam this morning…"

Eli turned away from the window and looked at her, "Sam? How is she doing?"

The forced pleasantness in his tone was clear. She ignored it.

"She said it's going well," Diane said, "She met with him yesterday, along with Detective De Luca. She doesn't think there will be any more problems in the future."

"As long as she doesn't blow anything up," Eli muttered.

She gave him a look, "She wouldn't."

"As long as you were clear on that," he replied, "Diane, she's not exactly subtle unless she's told."

"You know she has more of a handle on her temper than you think."

"I know that. I'm just saying she's…wild."

"Eli."

"I love Samantha, Diane, I do," Eli insisted, "Did I object when you brought her on board? I encouraged it."

Diane looked at him for a moment before letting out a sigh, nodding, "I'm sorry…I'm just unsure, I suppose."

Eli nodded, looking around the darkened interior of the car before glancing out the window. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to force back the words that were threatening to come out. He didn't want to say them, but it seemed the more he tried not to, the more they seemed to push against him.

"You could…" he stopped, pursing his lips slightly before clearing his throat a little, "You could call them…ma'am."

Diane turned to face him, an eyebrow arched.

"I mean, er, you know, if you, uh, wanted to," he tried to appear nonchalant with a shrug, "You could call…them to, I don't know, check in? Or whatever."

The Senator simply stared at him for a moment, her expression changing minutely before she gave him a small smile that he felt might have been forced. He couldn't always be sure—she was much too savvy in schooling her features already, a trait of a consummate politician. Days couldn't always match one's mood and often, Eli knew, there were still times when even Diane couldn't control her world in a way that would have everything fall into place the way she wanted to. So feigning emotions and facial expressions were just one of the tools in her trade.

Slowly, she began to nod, "I'm beginning to notice that aside from Mr. Coyne, you people only ever refer to me as ma'am when you think you're risking your jobs."

Eli suppressed a smile, "Wasn't aware we were doing that, ma—Senator."

"I'm on to you people."

"Duly noted," he nodded, "But, uh, are you going to be making a call?"

Turning away from the window, Diane smiled at Eli, "No."

Eli couldn't help but gawk, "Why?"

She could have laughed then and pointed out he'd been the one ready to call DEFCON 2 when the whole thing was in its early stages. Now that things were getting quiet and she was ready to accept the cards she'd been dealt, he was the one encouraging what he had originally deemed as an unnecessary risk. But she wouldn't because she knew how hard it was for Eli to even reconsider adjusting the parameters he had set for all of them. She knew how difficult it was for him already to navigate their chosen path but to actually add more to it just to make her happy was already going beyond what was expected of him.

This was personal and though there were times Eli liked to pretend they kept things at the professional level, she knew it was anything but. You don't spend months on end in each other's company and not form some kind of relationship, after all. And as much as a hard ass Eli could be, Diane appreciated that this side of him—the one people would never even dare believe existed—came out every now and then.

He was trying to help her, give her a chance to be happy and experience a little bit of normalcy and she was very touched but it wasn't the right time. Diane had as much accepted it and no matter how ready Eli was to help her in this, she knew she couldn't ask anything more than he was already giving. Not him or her staff because she knew this would only add to their burdens.

Besides, this was her life—she chose it. She wasn't going to force someone else into it just and live the way she did. It wouldn't be fair.

"Some things are just not meant to be, Eli," she said, her voice soft as she glanced briefly at the two men seated at the front, "And oftentimes, it's easier to accept that fact sooner and move on."

Eli looked at her for a moment, taking in the resigned sort of smile on her features. He felt his jaw tighten and his eyes fell onto his lap, his hands absently smoothening down the front of his suit as he nodded tightly. He didn't know why, but somehow, hearing her speak those words made his chest tighten. He looked away from her and outside into the cold Chicago streets where the sun was beginning to set.

He knew that look well. She had made her decision and moved on and as much as he would have rejoiced with this particular fact early on, he couldn't find it in himself to do so now. He'd never expected working with her and for her would be easy and this should make him happy, her avoiding any unnecessary distractions, but he couldn't.

It was no secret Eli Gold had made a name for himself for being a bastard, but this wasn't the kind he aspired to be. He was good at his job, that was it. He wasn't the kind of man who would deprive someone else of having a life outside of their career. Certainly, that was never the goal with Diane Lockhart but that seemed to be what was happening now. And whether or not it was by his design, Eli still could not help but feel somewhat remorseful for the conclusion of this whole story. It wasn't fair.

It felt wonderful to have some time with his daughter again after such a harrowing year. As much as he grumbled about Marissa, he wouldn't dare say he would want his life without her. She was the single true good thing he could claim to have ever been a part of, he couldn't imagine giving that up. And it always helped, being away for so long, to know that somewhere in the world, he would always have someone waiting for him, someone to welcome him home.

Unable to look at the Senator once more, Eli kept his eyes outside, taking in the world they were passing by. He was on the other end of the seat but he could feel her and hear her breathe. There was no change in her demeanor, no outward sign of her inner struggles. He wasn't sure if there was any to begin with, seeing how resigned and accepting she was now. He felt genuinely sick. Eli closed his eyes, unable to see anymore, clenching his fist on his lap.

Heaven knew out of all of them it was probably Diane Lockhart who needed someone to come home to more than any of them did, not just at this time of year, but always.

It made Eli realize just then how truly lonely it must be at the top.

-o0o-

"Madison, you are giving me a headache."

"What? There aren't any good shows around. The good ones either got cancelled or, I don't know, ended. Stupidly. Or whatever."

"So put in a DVD or something," Kurt groaned, covering his eyes with his forearm as he leant his head back against the couch. It was Friday and it was officially lazy night for the two.

The two were in the den of their home, both in their sleepwear and plopped down on the couch in front of the television. Madison was in her cheery Christmas pajamas while the older McVeigh simply went for his usual shirt and pajama bottoms. They'd been spending the better part of the last ten minutes trying to find something to watch with the more mercurial younger McVeigh taking command of the remote control. And so far, it was not going well.

"Okay, okay, just one more round—"

"Two hundred channels and you _want_ to go another round?" he raised his eyebrows at his daughter.

"Some of them are Asian channels," the girl shrugged, "I'm not spending my Friday night watching those pink Japanese flowers fall and dance around in the wind."

"They're called Cherry Blossoms and don't you have friends to Skype with or whatever it is you do?"

"One—dad, you can be _such_ a nerd sometimes," she dodged the playful punch that shot out, her smaller hand smacking against his fist in a feint, "Two—Fridays are ours. Besides, I have that thing at school tomorrow."

"What thing at school?" Kurt raised his eyebrows.

"Extra credit stuff," Madison shrugged, "It's for charity so it should be fun. I like it. Very Christmassy."

"How am I just hearing about this now?"

"I told you about it. You signed the form."

"What form?"

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"I sign a _lot_ of forms, Mads."

"Oh, no, don't give me that reason. Dad, I'm supposed to go tomorrow."

"But—"

"Dad!"

"Fine, fine," he rolled his eyes, unintentionally mimicking her go to expression, "Where and what time, Mads?"

"At the park in the afternoon," she replied, "And don't think I didn't see you roll your eyes, young man. Don't make me ground you."

He chuckled, throwing his arm over the couch and ruffled her hair, "Okay. So…this is the holiday thing with the, uh, Governor, right?"

"Yep," Madison nodded, "Aw, your memory's not that far gone after all!"

Kurt snorted, "I have court in the morning. I think I can get your Uncle Tony to drive you and make sure it's alright there."

"Dad, I'm not six! I do not need a chaperone!"

"Mads, either that or I'm calling the school and telling them you got food poisoning."

"That's a lie!"

"Yeah, I know."

"Hypocrite. You said no lying."

"I did and I probably am, but what're you gonna do, right?"

Madison gave her father a playful punch in retaliation, "Mean! Just for that. I'm gonna channel surf until your head explodes."

Kurt chuckled, tugging a lock of hair on her head, "Yeah, yeah."

She pretended to glare at him before continuing, "Head. Explosion. Brwoosh."

Her father laughed, nodding and instead, kept his eyes closed, leaning his head back on the couch once more.

"This is like the downside of the holidays," Madison declared, "No new episodes, no crazy stupid movies…all cheery Christmas stuff."

"You _like _cheery Christmas stuff," Kurt pointed out.

"Not tonight," she turned her nose up, "I want something…different."

"I think they're showing _How the Grinch Stole Christmas _tonight."

Madison frowned, "That was not the best version…I liked Martha May but Jim Carrey sucked."

"Language."

"I said suck! And it's true. He sucked."

"Still can't say it."

"Fine," she said, "But I swear, when I turn eighteen, I will say every beep word I possible can."

Kurt shrugged, "S'long as it's not in my house, sure."

"You'd bar me from the house for having a potty mouth?"

"No, of course not," Kurt smiled at his only child, "I'll simply put a muzzle on you or something. You can still come in. You'll always have a home with me, daughter of mine."

"Mean," Madison shook her head, "This is some form of abuse."

"Yep."

"Okay, so, channel surfing recommencing," Madison groaned, "Ugh, please, god, give us something good to watch! Preferably something _without _Kardashians or, I dunno, _Real Housewives_ of Stupid."

Kurt nodded, "I don't know what those things are, but yeah, none of those."

"Okay, bad show, beep show, stupid show…seen it, seen it, seen it, wait a minute…" she stopped clicking the remote and watched for a moment before she then growled, "_Bad_ remake! Seen it, seen it…_oh!_"

"What?" Kurt opened his eyes and looked at the television.

"Uh…" Madison gaped slightly at the screen then immediately bolted upright. "You know what? Why don't we pop in a DVD and—"

She tried to move towards the screen and block it, her fingers suddenly seem to forget where the mute button on the control was when she felt her father yank her back down by grabbing the back of her shirt. She yelped, plopping back down next to him, his eyes glued on the television.

Madison had managed to get to a news channel running a talk show that night. She didn't normally pay attention to them and she could barely remember who the dark haired man she was looking at but that wasn't the reason why she'd found herself gaping for a moment before she started floundering. It was the guest that night, or at least, that's what she assumed was the reason for the woman's presence.

Diane Lockhart was dressed in a dark blue suit, her hair perfectly coiffed as usual and looking as lovely and elegant as always. She was smiling a little as she listened to the host give a short summary of her life in politics as well as her recent win.

Madison bit her bottom lip, looking at her father then at the television screen. He didn't speak but he also didn't make a move to change the channel so she simply sat there, watching him surreptitiously as he watched the woman who, only days before, had been sitting in the same room as them, sharing jokes and sharing coffee as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was hard to reconcile that somehow, this was the same woman. The woman on TV was smiling politely not unlike any other politician Madison had glimpsed and seen throughout her life. She was a lot different in person, more alive maybe and definitely warmer. Not that she was cold on screen, but she was different from the woman who held Madison on the plane even after she'd thrown up all over her.

She couldn't help but look at Diane Lockhart. She didn't know why but somehow, she seemed almost sad to her, even though she was smiling and laughing appropriately with the interviewer. She wondered if it was her eyes—they seemed different. Madison had seen them up close, seen them when she laughed and she was sure they looked different. She didn't know why, but she couldn't help but think there was something different about the way Diane was smiling.

Madison wasn't sure and she knew she could be wrong, that somehow she was reading too much into something she couldn't even be sure about, but the thoughts certainly lingered in her mind. She was no expert on human behavior and she was definitely even less than that when it came to the Senator, but she had her own feelings, her own intuition.

Somehow, she didn't think Diane meant those smiles and those dry laughs she was giving in the man she could only assume was Caleb McKay according to the show's title. Try as she might, Madison couldn't imagine forgetting how she looked when she seemed truly happy—the way she smiled and the way she tried not to laugh too hard even though she was obviously dying to because she was still a little shy in the beginning. Madison couldn't help but smile at the memory.

It was unforgettable—_she_ was unforgettable.

Her father didn't have to say anything anymore. The way he was so clearly unable to take his eyes off the screen was all the answer she needed. She was a smart girl, she was definitely good at picking up on certain obvious signs.

So she sat back carefully, too worried to jostle her father as he watched, obviously riveted. She would tease him if this had been someone else. But she could see the way he was watching her too. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look like that and she filed that thought away in her memory. This was all too real, but at the same time, Madison couldn't believe _this_ was her life. It felt like a movie—a movie she would like to see the end of sooner because she wanted to see badly how it was all going to unfold.

Putting the remote aside, Madison watched the interview in silence with her father, unable to help the ghost of a smile appearing on her face. She wasn't sure, but somehow, she couldn't imagine this particular story not having a good ending. She wanted to add a beep worthy adjective there, but she wasn't going to. She was too busy trying to work out how she could help this ending along.

There had to be something she could do to make something happen. Somehow, this was her one chance to put all those hours she'd devoted to watching rom-coms to good use.

At least maybe then they'd have been good for something after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: Leaving on a Jet Plane**

Annie walked into the bedroom carrying a large gray box with a bow.

"It's here," she declared happily as she swept in, "It just arrived!"

Diane's brow furrowed, eyeing the box just as Annie placed it on her bed, "What's here?"

"Your dress for the Governor's Party" Annie informed her, taking off her gloves and blowing on her hands lightly before motioning towards the package.

"What are you talking about? I already have the dress here," the older woman eyed the box on her bed, "Which one is that?"

"Huh? Oh!" Annie stopped, confused for a moment, "That was the one that arrived last week, I think."

"Yes, it is, so what is that other one?" Diane nodded, motioning towards the other box on the fainting couch by the windows.

She had pulled the heavy curtains open that morning but left the sheer layers to let in the light but also preserve some privacy. She knew it wasn't entirely likely that she would find some undesired attention from her bedroom windows, but she'd been in her lifestyle long enough to not take certain things lightly. She had long ago learned to stop underestimating just how far some people were willing to go for a buck and that included monetary value invasive photos might entail.

Heaven knew she'd been forgetting this particular lesson in the last few days, but she was more focused now, sharper and centered. She'd done quite well for herself the day before handling the press and keeping them at bay. All she had to do was keep it up and never give them another chance to see her slip.

Annie moved towards the box, "Have you opened it?"

Diane shook her head, "Not yet. I've been a little preoccupied."

The younger woman smiled, "May I?"

"Of course," Diane nodded, more than used to sharing her personal space with the younger woman.

"I'm pretty sure this is something she made for you to wear for the New Year," Annie said over her shoulder, undoing the silver bow, "She sent me one as well."

Diane smiled, taking a seat on the bed, "I hope it wasn't anything scandalous."

The two hadn't forgotten the lace teddy from Charlie's then-recently launched lingerie line the year before. Annie had made a mistake of opening it excitedly in front of Diane and had turned beet red when she'd pulled the _little_ number out of the box. Diane had burst out laughing, more than happy with her gown while Annie had felt the room's temperature drop some numbers in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, no, it was quite stunning," Annie smiled, remembering the beautiful emerald green 1920s-inspired cocktail dress that was perfect on her petite frame. "I can't wait to wear it."

Charlie Wright was Diane's former sister-in-law whom she was still quite close with. Charlie was rarely ever in town at the same time as Diane, but the two met up when their schedules allowed it.

She was one of the few people Annie knew had the kind of access to the Senator that was not easily attained and whenever Charlie was around, Diane was lighter and laughed easier. They talked on the phone often and Charlie was always generous in sending her clothes, always leaving a note that it was more out of selfishness than anything from generosity—a dress worn by a beloved public figure like Diane was always a good free publicity. Often times, like during The Lace Teddy incident, she still sent some pieces for Annie, from old collections or for special occasions Charlie just had her way of keeping track of.

The difference in the notes attached to packages addressed to Annie Clawson were the ones Diane was, under any circumstances, never allowed to see and was probably even unaware of.

It was always brief and centered on the same line of thought—_take care of her_. Charlie was well aware of how much time Annie spent with Diane and just how closely she worked with her. The way the talented fashion designer saw it, Annie was a sort of last line of defense between Diane and the rest of the world.

Because even though she was a grown woman and could very well take care of herself, both Annie and Charlie could agree that in her line of work, the Senator was often much too close to being mauled by the public at any given moment. And tough as she was, neither woman would expect she would be to keep on functioning without some sort of barrier to block the rest of the world when she needed to take a breath.

As if to make sure Annie always complied to her requests, sometimes when Charlie was sure to be feeling particularly playful, she'd add some painful yet creatively imagined ways of torture to 'scare' Annie into compliance. She kept all the notes fondly as she kept the dresses and other pieces from Charlie's collections she was given, more than glad to comply and never afraid. She liked her job enough—with or without the free designer duds and other perks that came with the job.

"I think this is definitely a dress for the New Year," Annie said with a soft chuckle as she pulled out the latest creation as well as the note attached to it.

"A dress? That's a dress?" Diane's eyebrows shot up, "_Where_ is the rest of it?"

The younger woman laughed, "This _is _all of it, if this note is any indication—_Sister Dearest, god gave you a goddamned pair of to-die-for gams. Flaunt them as the maker intended! You are a Senator, not a fucking nun. Believe me when I say if they photograph you with this, the male population—as well as a substantial amount of the females too, I'd bet—will be touting you as the next President come January. Happy Naughty Holidays, my dear. With all my love, CW._"

"She's lost what little was left of her mind," Diane quipped, unable to help the smile that graced her features, shaking her head as she eyed the gold sequin-covered mini dress with long sleeves. "Is she trying to make sure I freeze to death? It's Chicago in the _winter_!"

The dress looked short enough for her to be sure it wouldn't even reach remotely close to her knees. She was sure if she even dare wore it out in public, even she wasn't going to be able to get away with it. Being branded a clotheshorse was easier to dodge than whatever backlash wearing a dress like that would surely garner.

Annie grinned, "I think you'd look sensational in it."

"You're both insane," Diane frowned a little, "That is not appropriate, certainly not for a woman my age _and_ definitely not for a member of the Senate."

"It's the holidays, I think you'll be safe," Annie offered though she barely believed it.

"Ha!" Diane cracked sarcastically, "That was almost believable, Annie…Charlie is just teasing. I'll call her later and…well, deal with it."

Annie walked towards the bed, laying it down on the opposite side from where Diane was seated. She looked at it then at the older woman, a pensive look coming over her features before she nodded, "Ma'am?"

"What?"

"In the spirit of risking the loss of my job," Annie began, "while you have a point about being a member of the Senate, I have to say—the part about not being appropriate for a woman your age? Bull."

"Excuse me?" Diane's eyebrows shot up once more, an incredulous smile appearing, "Annie Clawson, did you just say _bull_ to _me_?"

"Yes, ma'am," the woman nodded, "Because you're probably oblivious to it, but…well, you're hot."

Diane's jaw practically dropped, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude by asking but…are you high?"

"Nope," she grinned, "I'm just stating the facts, ma'am."

"Stop ma'am-ing me," the Senator feigned annoyance, "You, my dear, are getting a little too comfortable…I blame Charlie and her influence over you. That note! You two!"

Annie laughed, "I'm sorry, Senator, but it's true. It's not a conspiracy. I truly do think you'd look quite fabulous in that dress."

"Fabulous isn't exactly the goal I had in mind when I decided to run for public office," Diane muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Some people work at it, some people are born with it," Annie shrugged, "You belong in the latter. I think Miss Charlie is just trying to get you to embrace it a little."

"She's done her fair share of trying to make me embrace things I have no business embracing," Diane said, thinking back on the secret little gift that Charlie had sent her the same day she had sent Annie the teddy—her brother's sneaky ex-wife had followed up that present with something just as scandalous for her although she'd been more discreet about its delivery than she'd been with Annie's.

Charlie had also sent Diane something from her lingerie line too—something slinky in dark navy blue satin with black lace. She had never worn it and had, in fact, not even taken it out of the small rectangular package it had come in.

It was still in the back of her closet across town from her family home. Diane hadn't dared leave it in her Washington, DC apartment, not too keen on having someone discover it and have it end up making headlines. Diane had considerably more trust riding on their loyal family housekeeper than the people that were hired to take care of her Georgetown apartment. She didn't mind being labeled paranoid if she was spared the embarrassment she'd witnessed people in her line of work go through.

"Forget it," she shook her head, gracefully crossing one leg over the other, "The other package?"

Annie smiled to herself before moving past her boss and headed towards the box she had brought in, "It's still from Miss Charlie but this is the one she just finished last week—for the Governor's Winter Gala. She said if alterations were needed or if you're not happy about something, she sent Mikhail in with it to take care of it immediately. He arrived with the dress just this morning."

"Surely she didn't make the poor man travel all the way out here just for this?"

"Oh, no," Annie answered, "Don't worry, ma'am. Miss Charlie has had a very busy year. Mikhail is taking care of the deliveries due this week and then some."

"Good," Diane nodded. She so hated the special treatment she didn't feel all too eager being subjected to even though there were times where it simply could not be helped.

The Winter Gala was an annual event that Diane attended every year even before she'd been made Governor and hosted the events as per tradition. It was an exclusive event, always presided by who else but the Governor and the tables were always expected to cost a pretty penny. It was done so with good reason for it was a vital Chicago fundraising event that benefited various groups—the Children's Hospital, homes for the aged, shelters, veterans and soup kitchens. Every cent went to those groups, providing aid for those in need and getting some of the more fortunate members of society to be more conscionable and generous of what they've been so blessed with.

It wasn't always pleasant—there are always smarmy characters that are easily attracted by such opportunities to flaunt what they have but it did what it was set to do. The Gala was one of the most important events of Chicago's social calendar and it always went beyond each year's expectations. Diane was not a fan of such events where everyone would inevitably be preening and posing as they waved their power and monetary value like a baboon was expected to flaunt its ass but she knew the event was important so she always went. This year, she could easily just write a check for the amount she would spend for table and her donation, but her presence was important. She knew it was expected of her.

Plus, it wouldn't hurt to dress up a little for a night once more. She did these kinds of events often enough in Beltway, but this was Chicago. This was home, for better or worse with people in it included, and this was a kind of tradition for her as well. So going was a must, if only to check out her usual stomping grounds.

Diane nodded, pressing a hand on one cheek and wrapping an arm around her middle, "I really hope she sent a complete dress this time…"

Her aide suppressed the giggle that threatened to erupt, undoing the bow and removing the lid of the box. Her eyes widened as she reached down, touching the dress carefully with one hand, "Oh…my."

Diane was unable to fight her curiosity, leaning forward, "Well?"

"It's beautiful," Annie breathed, taking the evening gown out carefully with both hands and laid it on the bed to full display the latest creation from Charlie Wright's collection.

Made of midnight-blue silk faille with a double-lapel and short sleeves, the gown had a deep V neck in the front that gave a hint of sensuality without pushing it too far enough to be considered vulgar. The cut was simple but subtly elegant, fitting at the top down close to the knees where it ended up a gentle fishtail flare that would give her enough freedom with however much she desired her pace to be while walking.

The evening gown spoke of an understated elegance and sophistication that fit Diane Lockhart perfectly and it left no room for doubt that Charlie had kept her in mind during the whole process of its creation.

She did not have to put the dress on to know it would fit perfectly. Just by looking at it she knew Charlie had made sure she could wear the gown without sacrificing comfort as some gowns tended to do. She appreciated the amount of care and thoughtfulness the woman had put into it just for her, knowing Charlie had to have spent quite some time on it that she could have otherwise spent working on something she could find more lucrative ventures for, some dress for an actress maybe or a pop star—she had quite the client list, after all.

Diane had always loved and adored Charlie, but it was in times like this that made her wonder just what the hell her brother was thinking letting the woman go. It wasn't because she was generous with her, no—rather it was the fact that Charlie was quite a stunning person. She was kind, caring, funny, spontaneous and a creative genius. Diane hadn't pried on what exactly had gone on in the marriage but she didn't love Charlie any less than she did before the divorce. They were family and nothing could ever change that.

"Well?" Annie asked after a moment.

She smiled, glancing at her aide with a fond smile on her face, "I'm glad she sent me one whole dress for Christmas, at least."

Her aide laughed, shaking her head at the woman, "At least this takes care of the Gala."

Diane nodded only to frown slightly, "Is it me or is it utterly disconcerting how much time we have to spend just to figure out what I should wear to each event I'm to go to? I mean, honestly, you'd think someone in my line of work ought to be more consumed by the state of the country and doing what needs to be done."

"You have a valid point, ma'am," the younger woman admitted, "But if you actually threw your cares to the wind in terms of your appearance, then that'll just leave the critical public to pillage you for wearing the wrong shade of lipstick…and that could just be catastrophic. How then will you do what needs to be done?"

The Senator chuckled, nodding, "You are actually right. Isn't that silly?"

Annie grinned, "That I'm right or that somehow the wrong shade of cosmetics could topple a distinguished and respected service to the public, outweighing duty and love of country?"

Diane chuckled, "The latter."

"Then yes," she nodded, "It is silly…but it is what it is so who are we to change the rules now?"

The older woman smiled fondly at her, "Have I ever told you how glad I am to have hired you?"

"Not lately," she beamed, "But you tell me enough and I've got a good memory."

"Well, isn't that just perfect?"

"It is," Annie nodded with a smile then checked her watch. "I'm due to reconfirm today's schedule with Mr. Coyne and Mr. Gold, ma'am. They still need to coordinate with the LEOs on site for the Tree Hunt before we leave. Would you mind excusing me for a moment? That is, unless there are changes you'd like to make?"

"No, I've looked it over. Go ahead, Annie," Diane answered, taking out her mobile phone, "I just need to make a phone call but I'll be down soon."

"Miss Charlie will have some explaining to do about the New Year's dress then," Annie said wryly, "I'll be downstairs if you need me, Senator."

Smiling, Diane watched her Senior Aide leave, thanking her just as she closed the door behind her. She glanced at the dresses laid out on her bed as her smile began to fade, shaking her head for a moment before opening her phone's contacts and hit call when she reached a particular name. She pushed herself off the bed and walked towards the large windows of her bedroom, staying well away from view but not too far enough that she couldn't see outside that cold white Chicago morning.

Diane leaned against the windows, pressing her temple against the wall, closing her eyes as she listened to the tell-tale ringing. She waited until the other end picked up, standing straighter like someone had shoved a metal bar up her spine when a familiar woman's voice filtered through.

"Yes…" the Senator began, glancing at her bedroom door as she spoke, "Samantha? It's me. I—"

She stopped abruptly when she heard someone begin knocking at her bedroom door once more, "Who is it?"

It was Annie again. Diane bit the inside of her cheek, "I'm going to need a minute, Annie, I'm on—"

"Senator Richardson is on the line, ma'am," Annie's voice was muffled slightly but she could hear the more professional tone she used when it was about work, "He said it's urgent."

Diane pressed her phone away from back to her ear, sighing slightly before speaking into it once more, "I'll have to call you back."

She hung up reluctantly and pocketed her phone just as Annie reentered the room. She had an apprehensive look on her face which immediately set Diane on edge, "What's going on?"

"I don't know, but Senator Richardson didn't sound…normal," she said quietly, pressing the phone to her shoulder to make sure their exchange could not be heard, "Mr. Gold is already downstairs. I think he's speaking with someone from the transition team, but I can't be sure."

Diane nodded and reached for the phone, "Alright. Thank you, Annie."

She watched the girl leave just as she answered the call, "George? Yes, it's Diane. What can I—"

The young Senior Aide saw the expression change on the woman's face and immediately knew that whatever was being said on the other end couldn't be good. Diane glanced at her, shaking her head slightly with a dark look passing over her patrician features, her jaw tightening as she looked away. Senator Richardson had been unusually curt with Annie on the phone, the normally agreeable man's voice lacking the lilt in his voice that she was all too familiar with. She'd known then that whatever had happened had to be important and if Diane's mien was further indication, then it was something big.

She turned away from her, speaking quietly and pressing the phone to her ear tightly. She swallowed hard, unable to help the dryness that had settled in her throat as she listened to what little information the other Senator could share with her over the phone. Right then, all thoughts of her attempted inquiry with Samantha Archer was forgotten.

In a blink of an eye, Diane Lockhart immediately transitioned into the Senator, her already fine posture straightening, her jaw setting and her mind beginning to run in a million different directions all at once.

The Senator completely took over just as Washington began to once more beckon her back.

-o0o-

"…tell me again this is a good idea."

Sam smiled from her perch and smiled serenely, "This is a good idea."

"I still don't get why you're here."

The younger woman shrugged, "Tony's getting his ass chewed for something I don't know. I'm the stand in. I hope you don't mind. I don't have kids and the last time I babysat, the kid's hair turned blue _but_…"

Kurt smiled a little, "You know that's not helping, right?"

She winked, "She'll be fine. I don't have a tree yet anyway and it's for charity, why not?"

He nodded, "Listen, she…doesn't know about this. About you."

"Okay," Sam nodded, "Do, uh, am I supposed to lie or…?"

"Nah," he shook his head, waving a dismissive hand, "Madison's a good kid, it's just that, well, she's going to think I did this on purpose and I sent a chaperone and—"

"Ah, overprotective crazy dad pisses off kids."

He shrugged, "Something like that. Minus the crazy."

"You're a parent," she shrugged one shoulder, "You've been called crazy and as well as a slew of things you don't even wanna know about, trust me. No matter how good the kid, it's a rite of passage."

"Speaking from experience?"

"I had a more colorful set of vocabularies," she smirked. "And in different languages but there was a short period of time I concentrated on Spanish."

"Comforting," he muttered, leaning against the entryway leading to the hallway and the staircase. He glanced at her folded hands, raising an eyebrow slightly as he spotted her fingers moving rhythmically on the back of one hand. He continued watching her hands discreetly for a moment, his head tilted to the side.

He was normally not quite so curious but he couldn't help but take notice the way she was sitting so still that even when she talked or smiled, there was a stillness about her that was truly uncommon. Her fingers kept tapping, as if keeping count even while she was absorbed deeply in conversation.

A part of him thought it wasn't any of his business, that he ought to leave things well enough alone but he couldn't help himself. Normally, he had more self-control but on this particular matter, he felt it was better to know for sure than stay in the dark and assume and risk making a fool out of himself.

"So," Kurt cleared his throat slightly, "How…how long were you held for?"

The younger woman's head shot up, "Excuse me?"

He gaped slightly, a little caught off guard by her sudden alertness, "I'm sorry. I, uh, noticed the finger tapping. You were…the rhythm. I recognized it. Tony mentioned a few things about you."

"I don't know what—"

"Some specific trainings for certain field work," he began in a low voice, "Include finger tapping and other exercises to help keep you focus during captivity."

He didn't add _torture_, deciding it was a given, especially if the way her eyes tended to dart as she kept her cool under his scrutiny was any indication.

Sam gave him a somewhat sardonic smile, "And what would you know about certain trainings, Mr. McVeigh? I don't recall retired military members being quite so…informed."

"I do lectures at the academies and training facilities," he shrugged, "And I have some ties in Langley. I read and I also lend some of my time to help talk to a those who're able to come home when their tours end."

Sam raised an eyebrow, the expression on her face only waning slightly before she nodded slowly, glancing at her folded hands before looking up at him, meeting his eyes dead on. She shrugged nonchalantly, "Two months…and a half. Somewhere hot and unpleasant and smelled like hell. Felt like it too."

"But you got out," he kept his tone even.

She nodded tightly, "Barely. I…my name popped up and someone cared enough to notice. Luck of the draw, you know?"

Kurt nodded, swallowing slightly as he took in the shadow that seemed to cloud over her mien. Her lips were smiling ironically but he could see the tightness on her features, the slight expression of suppressed pain she wasn't fully able to hide. Had he been just another joe, he would have missed all of that.

He could only see those things on her face because he knew what to look for, otherwise he'd never had guessed there was more underneath those dark eyes. She was good at masking her emotions and reactions, that much was clear. But it was all too familiar to him, those looks, everything that was leaking out despite her best efforts to hide them.

"I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive," Kurt began, genuinely remorseful. He wasn't one to be so willing to put his foot in his mouth, but he'd been surprised to have recognized the particular rhythm in her movements. He hadn't meant to pry and he had honestly hoped he'd been wrong with his own drawn conclusion. "It wasn't any of my business, but—"

"No, it wasn't, but…" Sam shook her head, "It's fine. I'm…coping. You know, dealing with things my way."

"We all have our own ways and I hope yours is working out for you well," he nodded, "Every war is different for everyone."

"Too damn true," she nodded slowly before giving him a small smile, "You do counseling?"

"I just listen and talk," he shrugged, "Nothing in the grand scale of things."

She tilted her head to the side, "I think listening is enough…that's about the grandest in my scale. Having someone listen and understand. And you obviously do—understand, I mean."

He shrugged, "I try."

She smiled, "Any chance I can, I dunno, get you to listen to me?"

He nodded, "Sure. Just say when."

Sam chuckled, shaking her head slightly, "Maybe someday."

Kurt tucked his hands into his pockets, clearing his throat once more, "Listen, are you sure this is okay? I mean, I'd hate to think I'm taking you away from—"

"Oh, no, don't worry," Sam shook her head with a wry grin, "Trust me, this is the most exciting thing that's happened to me this week. Don't worry about it. Besides, my time's paid for and it'd be nice to…I don't know, get a feel of what an American teenager is like now."

"If you're looking for a sample case," he shook his head slightly, "Mads isn't exactly the best candidate."

"Should I be worried?"

He chuckled lightly, "Nah. She's just…different."

"I think he means I'm a freak of nature."

Kurt turned just as Sam's head shot up and both adults caught the girl bounding down the stairs gracefully with a wicked grin. Madison was dressed in a pair red tights, black winter boots and her thick black coat, looking ready enough to go. She playfully nudged her father with her knapsack hanging off her shoulder as she stood next to him, raising an eyebrow as she spotted Sam.

"And here I thought Big Tony just decided to use his lady voice today."

Sam smiled widely and stood up, instantly taking a liking of the girl, "Hi there."

"Hi," Madison said flatly, her shoulder sagging lightly though it straightened up immediately after she felt the slight nudge from her father.

She watched the woman rise from her seat on the couch in the living room and Madison took in her outfit from the knit scarf wrapped around her neck, black jeans tucked into equestrian boots, a white top and a leather jacket. She didn't know the woman and couldn't recall ever meeting her, but she liked her leather jacket already—not that was enough to make Madison friendly at the first brush.

Though, while normally she didn't have a problem meeting her dad's friends and was usually kinder in giving fair chances somehow, she wasn't too into meeting a new woman around her father that morning. It didn't sit right with her, though if the woman noticed her lack of enthusiasm, it didn't show.

"I like the red," Sam winked as she stood in front of the two, her ponytail swinging slightly like a bound heavy black curtain. She extended her hand slightly, "I'm Sam. I'm going to be your driver for the day."

"Driver?" the girl frowned, looking up at her father, "Where's Uncle Tony?"

"Busy," Kurt answered, "But this is Sam…she's been working with me and your Uncle Tony about the whole thing in the paper. She's…well, that's her job, you know? Making people stop and—"

"Shut up and mind their own business?"

"Exactly," Sam piped up just as Kurt let out a scolding, "Madison."

The girl looked at the stranger who only beamed at her, "You can do that? To reporters? I thought they were, like, you know, unstoppable? Freedom of speech or something like that?"

"Normally, yeah," Sam nodded, glancing at Kurt for a moment before turning her full attention on his daughter, "But when they do something really lame, you know, like what they did to your dad? I get called in and then I pay them a visit. I tell them to stop…or I get all mafia on their a—butts."

She only managed to save herself from making the mistake of letting out her potty mouth and Madison obviously didn't miss it as she let out a laugh

"Okay, that sounds cool," she declared, "How are you my driver today? Did you, like, get fired or something?"

"Nah," Sam shrugged, "This is part of it. I get to drive you around and if I see them lurking around or trying to do something even more lame, I get to blow them up."

"Awesome!"

Kurt tried not to let his dismay show, "Uh, Sam…"

"I'm totally kidding," Sam told him and as well as Madison, winking at her, "I don't get to blow people up around here. The government tends to get upset when you pull that kinda stuff stateside."

"Does that mean you've blown things up while _not_ in stateside?"

Sam winked, "Sorry, I don't kiss and tell."

"Too bad," Madison grinned, "about not blowing up things here, I mean. I'd have loved to see a few reporters scatter like headless chickens."

"Oh, god," Kurt muttered, shaking his head slightly as he began rubbing the back of his neck, "I feel like I've been had. I think I just introduced Thelma to Louis."

Madison and Sam laughed together as the girl said happily, "Even more awesome!"

"I'm gonna kill Tony," Kurt said under his breath.

Sam gave him an apologetic smile, patting him on the shoulder, "I'm sorry, Mr. McVeigh. I swear, she's in good hands. I won't let anything happen to my new partner in crime. We'll go save the world one Christmas tree at a time and be back before dark."

"Yeah, dad, it's gonna be awesome," Madison said, "Totally for charity."

Kurt shook his head, "Just…please, don't burn the place down."

"Ah, please, I left my lighter up in my room," his daughter waved her hand slightly, "Sam?"

"I only go pyromaniac on Tuesdays and Thursdays," she saluted with a wink, "On weekends, I'm a vegetarian."

Madison laughed and that earned a smile from Kurt who nodded, checking his watch, "Okay, almost time for me to go. You two? Definitely time."

"Okay," Sam smiled, "I'll go warm up…you two make your threats or something."

She waved slightly as she passed, giving Kurt a reassuring smile before heading out of the front door. Madison grinned after the woman, waving at her as she passed.

"I'll be right out, Jeeves!" Madison called out with a smile before turning towards her father when the door closed, "Explain please?"

"Her job's pretty much how she explained it," Kurt said, reaching forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "She's a friend, Mads and she's going to be looking out for you. If anyone talks to you or…you know, approaches you, you stick with Sam, okay?"

"Dad, I really didn't need a chaperone," Madison muttered.

"It's just a precaution," he said quietly. "Just do it…for me, okay? It's kind of a big event and, well, I'd feel better knowing you got someone like Sam looking out for you."

"Who is she anyway? How'd you meet her? You never mentioned her before."

Kurt nodded, "We just met, actually. She's the one the Super hired. She's very good at her job and she's capable of protecting you. More than capable, I think."

Sam Archer had just as much admitted to have done some government work abroad. And if she was being completely honest during their little exchange, she'd been through some things that would definitely prove she was more than capable of handling herself.

"I really hate being treated like a baby," Madison muttered then gave him a small smile, "But I get it. Reporters are nasty and you're feeling very overprotective right now. I get it. Cool."

"That's my girl," Kurt said, grabbing the lapel of her coat and pulled her to him in a hug, crushing her against him slightly. "You stay out of trouble, alright? You two together. Trouble. I can _feel _it."

Madison laughed as they pulled apart, "Dad! Don't worry, we'll be fine. You're being such a dad right now."

"Oh, yeah? Well, buckle up 'cause I'm gonna be such a dad for a very long time," he tugged a lock of hair behind her ear, winking at her, "See you later, okay baby?"

"Yep," she waggled her eyebrows, "You'll be coming by to pick me up, right? I like feeling all cool with a driver and all but we don't have a tree yet. We're getting a tree, right? For charity?"

"For Christmas and charity, yes," he smirked, "Glad I raised such a good daughter."

"I'm a saint," she preened, adjusting her knapsack over her shoulder, "Later, dad."

"Later," he smiled, "Love you."

She waved over her shoulder as she headed out, "Love you too!"

"Pick a good tree!"

"Get there in time and you get a say but you know I'll win in the end anyway!"

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head at his daughter just as the door closed behind her.

Like every year, he was sure they were going to end up with two trees—a very pretty one and a Charlie Brown tree. Just like Halloween where they always get a Charlie Brown pumpkin too. It was something Madison had been doing since she was five and he'd taken her to her first pumpkin hunt and that had been before he'd let her watched Charlie Brown and Peanuts. Her innate compassion was just one of the many things that made Kurt McVeigh love his daughter.

Picking trees and pumpkins no one else would want was just one of them.

-o0o-

Diane Lockhart looked up just as Eli took his seat next to her.

"You made it," she said evenly, returning her focus back on the tablet on her lap.

They were once more back into a small private area in an airport. The Senator and her staff had managed to find a plane flying out to Washington with barely enough time to get their things together and catch up. Eli, having needed to make his arrangements as well as a few other things to take care of, decided to meet them instead. He had cut it close but he managed to make it with enough time to actually catch his breath.

"Marissa was…intent on discussing a few things," he replied lowly, "Apparently, I'm going to be stocking up on coal the next few days."

"Coal?" her eyebrows shot up, "Isn't that an odd mix of traditions?"

"She's half Jewish and according to her," he sighed, "That gives her all the license to celebrate…Chrismukkah."

"Chrismukkah, huh?" Diane couldn't help but laugh, "Always loved that clever daughter of yours."

"She takes after her mother."

"I think that's more something you'd do, Eli," she smirked, "Vanessa has an entirely different style of her own, I think though not that it means she lags in that department."

"Please," he muttered, "Do not remind me. I'm well aware of Vanessa's ways…"

"Will she and Marissa be going to the Tree Hunt today?"

Eli nodded, "Yes. And I got a message from Mrs. Florrick, by the way. Expressing her displeasure at being stood up by you once more, Senator. She was looking forward to having you join her for the Tree Hunt."

"I've spoken with her," Diane sighed, "She was hoping to catch up today…now I feel bad for cancelling on her the other night."

"You'll make it up to her," he smirked, "Send her a bottle."

"I have but I'm afraid this time it won't be enough," Diane smirked, "It's going to take a lot more the next time I'm available. I know you'd prefer not to know how I'll manage."

"You know me well," he nodded then sobered up even more, "He's really dead?"

Diane didn't have to ask who he was speaking of and had no trouble catching on the sudden change in subject. She nodded slightly, tilting her head to the side, "Yes…such a shock. He was young."

"Yes, he was," Eli shook his head. "I've been tracking it. Nothing on the new yet."

"It's been stalled. They're hoping to keep it quiet…give us some time," she pursed her lips, "And give his family some peace, give them time to grieve in private before it gets out."

"The others are all coming?"

"Yes," Diane nodded, "I'm scheduled to meet with the heads of two federal armed agencies tomorrow. I'm scheduled at the DOD as well."

"This is rather inconvenient."

She sighed, "Yes, Eli, a man's death _can_ be inconvenient if it doesn't go with your social calendar."

"That's not what I meant," he muttered.

"I know," she nodded, "I'm sorry. I'm still…he was a good man."

"He was," Eli nodded, "A good friend."

She bit the inside of her cheek, "Yes."

"We'll have to handle it," Eli nodded, "So, who managed to let us hitchhike today?"

Diane's expression lightened and she flashed him a small smile.

"Charlie," she smiled fondly, "She has a plane commissioned for today. They have a layover in Washington and she's been kind enough to let us join Mikhail. He's apparently delivering her creations today…like a Santa Claus of fashion."

"Mikhail just happened to be in town?" he said dubiously.

Diane nodded, "We barely managed to catch them. They were set to leave an hour ago, I think, but Annie was fortunate enough to get on the line with Charlie."

"Excellent," Eli smiled happily—well, as happily as one could expect from Eli Gold, "She will always be my favorite ex-sister-in-law of yours."

She smirked, "You'd take that back in a second if you saw what dress she sent me for the New Year."

He suppressed a groan, "Do I want to know?"

Diane shook her head, "Nope."

"Will you be wearing it?" he asked, curious.

"It's quite tempting," she admitted, "But in a very private party, definitely. It's…well, it's a dress."

"I don't want to know," Eli decided, "Well, your schedule is still clear for the New Year…and Christmas."

Diane nodded, "The invitations are pouring still, but I have to say I would really just prefer to rest a little, at least. The moment we go back in session, it's just going to get crazy again. I'm going to need to sleep a little more before then or I swear, I won't make it."

"That's what you said back during the campaign," Eli smirked, "You're still here."

"I'm still here," she nodded just as Annie appeared on her side and informed them they were allowed to board already. At the doorway, Mikhail Rombova stood with an easy smile on his handsome face, waving at her.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" Diane said as she returned the wave with a charming smile.

"Shame he bats for the other team," Annie muttered quietly as she sidled up next to the Senator. "He's hot."

"Eye candy," Diane declared as they began to walk, Eli keeping pace and pretending he wasn't hearing the Beltway edition of girl talk. "Not a bad view for the flight."

"And here I thought we were going to be in a more solemn mood," her Chief of Staff said from her other side. "You know, with a dead man and all."

Diane rolled her eyes, "Well, _I'm_ not dead, Eli. I _can_ look."

"And with his preferences, that's all we'll ever get," Annie sighed, "A look."

Eli rolled his eyes as the two women laughed, keeping their heads close together and continuing to discuss the Russian fashion designer. This was definitely what an impromptu flight back to Washington needed—a good healthy dose of girl talk and it was making his stomach roll already. He prayed for a quick easy flight, if only to alleviate the nauseating effect of the rare shallow side of Diane Lockhart showing, Not that she was truly shallow. If asked, she'd simply say she was appreciating God's masterpiece.

The trio along with the Senator's staff and the Russian boarded the private jet scheduled out of Chicago that morning. They were heading right back into the welcoming arms Washington, DC with all its promises of keeping them busy the next few days. The death had come suddenly and while it hadn't reached the news yet, the people concerned were already setting up meetings to handle the situation. It was never easy to find out one of the government's main contacts had suddenly passed but some things couldn't be helped. So close to Christmas and everyone was scrambling back to their stations.

Safe to say, the holidays were going to be put on pause in their calendars until further notice.

-o0o-

"Hi, I'm Marissa."

Sam couldn't help but balk at the sight of Marissa Gold extending her hand to, who else, but Madison McVeigh. She shook her head, spotting the distinct curling of the corner of the girl's mouth and the way her eyes danced. She was two feet away but she was so sure Marissa was two inches away from laughing her ass off but was doing a decidedly good job of holding it in.

Of course she would figure out who Madison McVeigh was and yes, of course, she was introducing herself to the girl at that exact moment.

She would wonder what she was up to but knowing the girl and a little of how her mind worked, Sam pretty sure what was on the menu that night. She wasn't surprised the girl could drive the formidable Eli Gold up the wall like no other.

"Hi, I'm Madison," the younger girl smiled, shaking hands lightly.

"I was just looking around," Marissa motioned her head towards a pale dark haired woman dressed in black, laughing by a group of tall pine trees with another dark haired woman. "They're getting a little chatty and I get bored sometimes listening to them. I had to do something."

"Ah, so I'm your rescue?" Madison grinned, "Totally get it."

"Good because I can't explain without losing my eyeballs," Marissa rolled her eyes slightly for effect, "So, you're from Morton?"

"Yep."

"Fancy," she smirked, "Here with family or friends?"

Madison shrugged slightly, "I'm with a few of my friends but I think I got ditched. I'm looking for a tree too…we don't have one yet."

The older girl grinned, "Well, we're not getting one…although I admit I'm considering getting one just to screw with my dad."

"What? No tree?"

Marissa rolled her eyes slightly, "Jewish, but you know, I might wanna make my dad's head explode."

"Ah, alright, awesome," Madison laughed, "Wanna help me look? My dad's coming by later and I gotta pick before he gets here. I get dibs."

"Sounds like fun," Marissa grinned, "Besides, it'll make my mom think I might really get a tree. She'll laugh her ass off. Divorced parents are fun."

"About as fun as nearly killing a potential stepmom."

Marissa's eyes widened with glee, "You're didn't."

"Totally serious," Madison grinned, "Though in my defense. I had no idea she was really allergic to strawberries. I thought she was kidding. I mean, she was using strawberry lip gloss, come on, right?"

Marissa laughed and both girls began to walk around the rows of trees that were still left on the lot. There was a thin crowd but with the main event over and the snow getting thicker, they were left to look around more comfortably in a lighter crowd.

Sam Archer shook her head, watching both girls as they walked, heads leaned together and laughing like they'd been friends all along. She crossed her arms over her chest, glancing over at Vanessa Gold speaking with Alicia Florrick, both women enjoying the cold as well as the opportunity to have a private moment.

Hanging back, she kept pace, keeping an eye out on the crowd and glad that Marissa, dark as her motives for befriending Madison might be, was at least making her surveillance easier.

She had been called in to make sure Madison would be alright but she was quite fond of Eli Gold's daughter too. Marissa was older but she was still a young girl and with a father like Eli, Sam would prefer to be safer than sorry. There were still people going around the lot, families looking at trees and the ornaments all nearly gone. The toy drive had been a complete success and Sam had watched Madison have a good time volunteering with her friends, interacting with kids and other families, giving out ornaments and toys to little kids. It had been heartening to see just how sweet the girl could be, how eager she was to genuinely help out.

Extra credit may have been her school's main motivation to get them there but Sam could see the girl did truly enjoy her time on the lot. She had laughed with her friends, interacted with different people and was truly comfortable in any setting with anyone. If her quick bond with Marissa anything to go by, Sam could very well see just what a well-adjusted girl she was turning out to be.

Through the sadness and the loss of her mother and having only a father to raise her, Madison was quite a remarkable girl. But then Sam couldn't be too surprised. Her interactions so far with Kurt McVeigh had been quite short and mostly centered on business, but she had seen a glimpse of the man underneath it all. Sam was not at all surprised why a certain Senator had taken such an interest at the father and daughter.

Keeping an eye on both girls, Sam rolled an apple in one hand and smiled as she heard their joint laughter. Marissa's wild curly hair was bouncing as she spoke, gesturing wildly just as Madison was. Whatever they were talking about, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out they'd quickly found a common ground.

So far, the event had been rather tame and despite the turn out and the presence of the press, nobody seemed to take notice of the young McVeigh girl. It seemed Eli's tactics combined with Sam's were shaping up quite well, keeping the hounds at bay after their exposure of the girl's father.

To say Sam was satisfied was an understatement although a part of her felt a little bad that Diane Lockhart was unable to witness the things she had been able to. Madison was such a sweet girl, Sam just couldn't help but feel quite truly fond of her. She could only imagine how Diane had reacted to the girl though she did have some idea. After all, it wasn't every day Diane would come knocking on Sam's door for a favor quite like this. Not that she minded. Sam hadn't been lying when she said she didn't have anything else planned.

Breathing in the crisp air, she decided then that she was definitely going to be giving the Senator a call. It was a shame she missed the whole thing, but that didn't mean Sam wasn't going to give her some kind of idea of what she'd seen. She didn't give a rat's ass if Eli would oppose her encouraging of the situation or even what the press might do. Sam was really having quite a good time doing this particular favor. Reporters and hacks were easy enough to handle, after all.

And Sam was more than glad to give a hand in that department.

* * *

_Credit to Zac Posen for the midnight blue gown; worn by Christine Baranski for the 2011 Emmy Awards. Credit also to Rubin Singer for the gold sequined mini; also worn by Christine Baranski for the 2012 Emmy Awards._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven: Please Mr. Postman**

One way to get over an obsession is to find something new to obsess about.

And yes, twisted as it may be, it also means that this is a vicious cycle with no clear end in sight. For some, it truly cannot be helped. For others, they find the answer, some kind of cure that does not involve starting over again with something new. But it's a fact that for some more less fortunate souls, this is how they get over certain obsessions—by finding new ones.

The news cycle in the media isn't that much different. They are as afflicted by this need to keep the vicious cycle going because that's how the system works. They find something new to keep people tuned in every day pretty much the same way a pop star finds one scandalous thing after another to keep people interested in their marvel of a life. So whether it's about a nuclear explosion or someone getting caught without any underwear on, a vicious cycle is a vicious cycle.

So for those already in the game, they are never quite surprised anymore when one day, something takes over the newsreels like it's the Second Coming then have something else be the main attraction the next day. The tides turn much quicker in today's standards and sometimes, some 'big news' don't even last a day in the news cycle anymore. Fickleness plus the new level of ease technology presented was the best likely culprit.

It is bad if you're someone who is actually hoping to stay on top for a little while, but very good for those who would very much like to stay back and not be included in such shenanigans.

For Diane Lockhart, she was more than glad to have the spotlight shed on someone else.

But then she immediately regretted the feeling, considering the very thing that had taken her off the hot seat was the passing of a good man and an old friend. Death trumps a quickly-dying out potential love match easy. Only not that it didn't come with a price considering the last five days had her running practically non-stop like a hamster on a wheel even while she herself was grieving. After all, the man who died was not just some casual acquaintance and was, in fact, far from it.

Brandon Claymore was one of the many contractors working with the US Government. He was the head of Claymore Technologies and held a main contract with the government. Diane had been swept into the committee in charge with maintaining communications with ClayTech mainly due to her connection to Brandon who had been a friend before he had taken over the family business after his father's passing.

She hadn't seen Brandon since the last meeting she'd had with him with another head of a federal agency but there had not been any indication he was anything but in perfect health then. His death was a heavy blow and at forty-eight it had indeed come as a stunning shock. Heart attack at his age seemed almost ludicrous but that had been the final official cause of death.

That was the current focus of the news cycle though it was slowly dying down. The CEO of ClayTech had been a great philanthropist and a great leader. His people and as well as those who knew him outside of work were mourning his passing, Diane included. He had changed ClayTech's former ways from when his father had been the head when they were making weapons for war. Brandon had always disapproved and had made his first move as the new head to move his company from weapons manufacturing to making targeting systems. Essentially, he made their new venture more into creating systems that would dismantle and destroy the very things his father used to make.

In the beginning the end of their family's legacy had been proclaimed with naysayers declaring the end was near for Claymore Technologies. It would be hard to completely go the opposite direction, they'd said and they _had _struggled for a while, but Brandon Claymore had proved them wrong. He turned his company around, changed their goals and completely redid the system.

Diane knew it had more to do with his own guilt over his family's so-called legacy. They were swimming in blood, that much Brandon had seen over the years and he had never been one to flaunt his name. He wasn't proud of what they did and did not like that it was his family name that was attached to those things that were obliterating towns and killing people and children in places all over the world. War was war but it always unsettled Brandon at how largely they were participating in such senseless destruction.

She remembered him to be a compassionate man and Diane felt the world truly lost someone so dear, someone who had been taken too soon. Brandon still had so much left unfinished, that much she was sure.

It was saddening and it did not help the pervasive darkness that had already been steadily following her every time winter came around. It had always been this way for her ever since she lost her husband but seeing another life gone so quickly only seemed to add more to the weight she was carrying.

And just as it had been five days prior she was seated once more in a luxurious top of the line jet. The weary Senator sank heavily into her seat in the corner of yet another private jet rented by Charlie. She didn't believe for one second that this one was a coincidence this time. She wouldn't be able to truly prove it but Charlie had to have been keeping tabs on her though she wouldn't be surprised if she had gotten someone from her staff to keep her informed. Her money was on Annie but she was far too tired to go on a witch hunt that would only lead her nowhere.

Besides, she couldn't deny she was entirely upset about it. Eli hadn't been lying when he'd declared this was the only way to fly. It might sound incredibly shallow but it was the inescapable truth. They were all bone-weary and spent, to be able to go back home more comfortably than their usual means, well, it was a treat. Diane still hadn't managed to get a hold of her former sister-in-law, but she made a note to talk to Charlie. She needed to thank her for everything and schedule an actual lunch.

She breathed in, the corners of her lips lifting. She also made a note to _not_ scold Charlie for sending her that gold dress for the New Year. She could let that slide, after all, she didn't really have to wear it, didn't she?

Wincing slightly at the migraine she was sporting and completely forgetting the ginger ale she had been intending to drink, Diane Lockhart found herself drifting off, tilting her head sideways and curling up slightly under the blanket draped over her. She was never this comfortable around her staff, at least, not enough to just pass out but she was too tired to care. She didn't even care that Mikhail Rombova was on the plane with them once more—most likely to keep up appearances with the whole intention of making it appear Charlie did have business pending in Chicago once more. She was too tired to even imagine chastising the other woman.

Diane simply needed to sleep if she ever wanted to walk off the plane on her own two feet by the time they landed back in Chicago.

Thoughts of her sister-in-law, the events in Washington and the following days before she had to officially go back to work danced around the tired politico's thoughts as her eyes began to feel heavy. She blinked a few times, catching glances of the world beyond the windows of the plane and allowed the peace of the soft blue skies of the morning lull her into a gentle sleep.

And in no time at all, she was out like a light.

-o0o-

Eli Gold couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as he eyed the name on his screen.

He had been expecting voicemails from Marissa and his ex-wife, but certainly the last name he ever expected to appear on his phone was Alicia Florrick. What would the Governor's wife want with him? Sure they were quite social and polite whenever she was in the same events as Diane but Eli wouldn't exactly call her a friend. Besides, how did her name even get on is contacts list?

Too tired to care too much, he placed his phone next to his ear and listened to the message.

And with each word that was seamlessly passed through the line, it only aided in shooting his eyebrows right off of his head then. He could scarcely believe what the other woman was saying on the other end, short as the message may be. It did little to affect the impact of the woman's intent though. Dear god, how did she even know? The tiredness seemed to melt away as the political strategist leaned forward in his seat, glancing at Diane Lockhart who was fast asleep in the back of the plane.

He began to beckon forward for Annie Clawson who was in the middle of a book but then stopped short and decided it was better for him to go to her. She was on the opposite side of the jet and while it was spacious enough, it wasn't entirely conducive to having private conversations. So instead, he moved towards the Senior Aide, slipping into the empty seat across the small table from her. He took one glance at the sleeping politician on the other end, watching her for a moment before assuring himself that she was indeed asleep.

Annie was none too pleased having her quiet time interrupted though. She was quite the little when she had the time reader and Eli knew the girl was too wired to ever sleep on planes. With her work schedule, Annie barely had time for any reading but he knew plane rides were her favorite location for them. And even though he didn't know this fact, he would at least just by the expression on the younger woman's face, barely able to hide her displeasure at being interrupted.

Putting her tablet aside, she clasped her hands together and gave him a patient look, "Yes, Mr. Gold?"

"I got a voicemail," Eli began, "And I'm not sure if the caller was drunk dialing or she was serious."

"She? Marissa?"

"No, _Marissa_ doesn't drink," the older man scowled then handed her his phone, "I don't even know how she got my number but whatever. Just…I think I'm too tired to handle this one."

Annie nodded, "I think we all are, but I'll give it a whirl. Sure."

Pressing the phone to her ear, the younger woman's eyebrow furrowed as she listened. It didn't take long and she simply shrugged when it was done, "Do it."

"Excuse me? We've just put this _thing_ behind us and you want to throw in a lit match into it again?" Eli growled quietly, eyeing the sleeping senator warily. "_She _is done with this."

"Is that you speaking or did she say that?" Annie raised an eyebrow, bolder than usual though later she would blame it all on being tired and running on adrenaline.

"She said that and how dare you?" Eli was appropriately offended.

"Can you blame me?" she smirked—what did she drink today? She was bolder than ever. "I'm just saying…you saw her with him. With the girl. You can't just say she's done with it just because she says she is."

"You're being ridiculous," he mumbled, taking his phone back from her, "She's done, Annie. She's got Sam taking care of it."

"Sam is just making sure they're okay," Annie shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "But you saw the Senator with them, Mr. Gold. She hasn't been that genuinely happy in a while."

"You are romanticizing," he frowned, "How do you imagine this little scenario will play out in the end? He's a divorcee and an ex-military that suffered a very tragic loss. A Republican and a gun expert at that, wow, that's a tabloid's wet dream. Not to mention, his teenage daughter. How does this end well? I can't believe you are even advocating this."

"We can't all be perfect," Annie said simply, "And if you ask me, someone who _has_ actually checked out the dating pool? He's what I would consider a very good catch. He's a good man, Mr. Gold. Ex-military with a respectable record, a stable job, an exceptional daughter who he devotes his life to—for any woman, Senator or not, he's a very worthy catch and guess what? He made quite an impact on Miss Lockhart. If you _think_ she meant it when she said she's done…well, _I_ can't believe I'm saying it, but I guess there _are_ some things even the great Eli Gold can't see."

"I'm not one to pry on the personal life of—"

She shook her head, "Mr. Gold, please don't? We work together nearly every day of every week and in so many hours I don't even want to count. We're the closest to her in this staff and we know things we probably shouldn't. We more than pry in her personal life and we all know it. It comes with the job."

"Well, aren't we chatty today."

Once sarcasm comes into play, it's easy enough to know who was making more progress in the conversation. Or, at least, who was winning.

"Chalk it off to running on zero sleep," she smiled serenely, "But, really, Mr. Gold. You can't just brush off what happened between the Senator and Mr. McVeigh. I don't know what I'd call it, but for two people who barely even had a full day _alone _together? They bonded pretty quickly…and I can't imagine what you'd call that but I don't see something like that being easy to shake off."

"I can't just throw her back in there, Annie," Eli muttered, "The holidays are hard enough."

Annie nodded, "I know but I don't see how this could have hurt her…at best, she gets to know new people, find new company. At most, well, odds are, maybe she'll feel a little different about this time of year."

"This isn't some Hallmark movie."

She smirked, "Didn't think you knew what those were."

"I went through a divorce too, you know," he quipped.

"And Hallmark was your balm?" she laughed, "I would have put a bullet in my brain."

"Well, that's comforting."

She shrugged, "I can't decide on this, Mr. Gold. This is…beyond my job description and I didn't object to this in the beginning. In fact, I was happy about it. I'm close but not close enough to have any sort of influence."

"And you think I am?"

"Yes," Annie nodded, "Without Miss Charlie or her brother and the rest of the people who truly know her? You're the closest to her, Mr. Gold."

"I don't know why this should be up to me," he grumbled.

"You're the gatekeeper," she smirked, "You vet every single person that comes into her life and you know her work schedule better than she knows it. It's a job hazard."

"This wasn't in the job description."

"Half the things we do weren't in the job description," Annie replied sagely, staring at him for a moment, "He's a good man, Mr. Gold. He shouldn't scare you so much."

Eli scowled, "He doesn't scare me."

"You're scared of what he might do to her career in politics?"

"No."

"Good," she nodded, "Because I saw the numbers, Mr. Gold. Her approval rating climbed significantly higher when the idea of Kurt McVeigh came out."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "I didn't know you were looking into those."

"It's my job or have you forgotten?" Annie raised an eyebrow, "But you can't deny it…that jump was pretty significant. So, if you're just a Chief of Staff, you should know the obvious answer to this. If you're a friend…then you should know the answer then too."

He blinked, "You're trying to manipulate me into giving in."

"No, I wouldn't do that, sir," she smiled wanly, "We're just having a work related discussion."

He nodded slowly, glancing over her head and at the sleeping woman, "What do I tell the governor's wife?"

"Well, I definitely would think twice about asking her if she was drunk dialing."

"Annie."

"You do what you do, Mr. Gold," she replied, "That has never been a problem for you, sir. You do what you do."

"Well, that's not helpful."

"I'm usually not when I don't sleep enough."

"You haven't slept in a year!"

Annie smirked, "Exactly."

Eli couldn't help but smile at the girl before leaning his head back and chuckling to himself. He was running on little sleep too though he knew well enough Annie was useful in any state or situation. She was giving him the rope to run, giving him the permission he needed to do something he wouldn't normally do in such situations. Had it been any other person, he might not be giving the matter as much thought as he was giving it. But this was Diane and he did indeed have some semblance of control regarding who was allowed into her life and who wasn't.

Ultimately, it would be up to her but it was part of Eli's job to sort through the people so she wouldn't have to deal with every single one of them. It gave him a certain level of access to her and as well as the power to grant and deny anyone from coming close. He sighed, thoughts heavy in his mind once more as he recalled the message the First Lady of Illinois' had left in his voicemail.

And he decided then maybe it wasn't so hard to find the words to say to Alicia Florrick.

-o0o-

He ought to be used to it by now.

It's happened every year since she started this little tradition. But somehow, like every year, he can't quite cope with it as much as he should be able to.

Because there was nothing like watching his sweet, innocent little girl turn into something reminiscent of a whirling dervish. On the day before her slumber party, it is never anything short of a delirium of spasmodic chaos and at the center of it, was his Madison. For people who thought her relatively sane, all they needed was this one time of the year to have their beliefs shattered completely because it only took one day for her to go from relatively sane to, well, a demented little Christmas elf.

Kurt McVeigh had long given up trying to talk her down from this day. It had never ended well for him—this was the one time of the year where his daughter's usually bright disposition could swing either way. Madison loved her little tradition as much as she loved theirs where they trek off into the country for Christmas. And while usually she wasn't a drama queen about things, this party was of the greatest import.

At least, for the next twenty-four hours.

Their house by now would be perfect for a window display at Barney's or maybe Norman Rockwell. They'd worked the last few days systematically, turning their home into something that looked like Christmas exploded in. And his kitchen—or at least what used to be his kitchen—by now had been turned into a baking warzone though instead of blood and ammunition, it was covered with flour, batter and eggshells.

And yes, adding fudge and sugar and everything else in between in his daughter's system only helped matters even more. He'd never seen his daughter quite so hyperactive and he's had to talk her down from grabbing a twenty-foot ladder out storage when he caught her eyeing the ceiling. He'd never been quite so close to a sudden coronary when he realize what she'd been up to.

Their home smelled amazing though. It smelled like cinnamon, sugar, vanilla, ginger and all sorts of things—it was warm and lovely and it was like actually breathing in Christmas.

Madison had managed to sweet talk herself into getting some more help—lessons—from her Aunt Ethel to help her prep for the party the next day. That should explain why she was hopped up on fudge and was having the most spectacular sugar rush Kurt had ever laid his eyes on.

It reminded him of the time she'd snuck in some coffee and told a knock, knock joke that lasted seven hours. And that was no exaggeration. He had heart palpitations just watching her back then.

So sitting back and listening to his daughter and his best friend's wife sing along to some new version of a Christmas song, Kurt McVeigh finally allowed himself to exhale. He was getting old, he decided, as he felt the slight ache along his lower back. God, who knew hauling ornaments could be such a pain? He was sure he had never felt so wiped out—not even during his time in combat, he thought.

Mind over body, he decided, shaking his head at himself and leaned his head back on the couch. He was tired and a little drowsy but his daughter was cheery and peppy, sounding definitely like herself. The party was important to her and heaven knew there was nothing he liked more than knowing his daughter was happy.

The party meant a lot to her. She liked having the people she loved around her and that included the girls she hung out with at school. Sure he had heard her say more than a few times how she hated them a little but he knew she loved her friends. So if a few sacrifices needed to be made three days out of the year, then he was fine with that.

Besides, they were good girls and as far as he knew, none of them had yet talked Madison into piercing or tattoos or any vices they had no business playing around with. As long as none of them walked over the dark side, Kurt was perfectly fine with them—though he knew damned well those days were upon them all. God, how he wished he could find some way to make Madison stay just as sweet and lovely as she was.

"Daaaaaad!"

The bellow rang clear and true throughout the house and Kurt's eyes shot open. Sweet and lovely—but definitely not subtle.

Reluctantly—and feeling a little rickety, god when did this couch get uncomfortable?—he got up, shutting his eyes tight and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "You bellowed?"

"We can't find the—oh! Never mind!" her voice trailed off and Kurt heard Ethel tell the girl not to bellow at her father, to which Madison simply chuckled at and say oops. "Found it!"

Kurt nodded, pressing the heel of his palm over his eye, "Congratulations."

"I heard that!"

He shook his head, letting out a sigh before decided by himself that no, it's not always mind over body. He was tired and sleepy after a day of Christmas overdose with his only child.

"Hey."

Kurt looked up, blinking his eyes open and found Ethel De Luca entering the living room of their home. "Hey. How's the baking going?"

"She's a fast learner," Ethel winked and took a seat next to him, "What about you? You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks," he grinned and straightened up, "She's hopped up on fudge and running around like she's on speed. Thank you for coming because if I had to bake on top of all this, I don't think I'd have made it."

Ethel chuckled, "You seemed to be doing fine when I got here."

"Yeah, right," he shook his head, "But really, Ethy. Thanks for coming. After the last time, she got hell bent on baking for the party. You know I've tried it—"

"And you were pretty good."

"—but it's not something I can say I'm actually into," he exhaled, "So, thanks. This is your thing and she wants it to be perfect."

Ethel smiled, "She just wants a perfect pair to go with your cocoa."

"Yeah, she does," he nodded, "Tony still at work?"

"Just wrapping things up," she nodded, "He's officially out starting today and then in a couple of days we go up to your place in the country."

Kurt smiled, "I honestly can't wait until we get there."

"But first, the slumber party."

"Two days and a night full of giggling thirteen-year-olds," Kurt nodded, "Yep. Perfect."

Ethel chuckled, "You'll live through it."

"Yeah, but how am I gonna look by the end of it?"

She smiled serenely, "You're gonna look exactly like the best dad in the whole world."

Kurt smiled, "Well, that's something, isn't it?"

-o0o-

She knew the ground would be frozen solid.

Her head and chest were aching but it wasn't due to the cold or even the fact that she was tired. It was quiet and, for once in a very long time, she was left alone. Maybe there was something about this place that made her security detail think no one would be out waiting to blow her head clean off her shoulders.

She made her way slowly, each step quiet but harsh, sure but echoing with pain as she retraced a path she knew all too well by now. Down the winding concrete path, her feet heavy as she took each step.

It would never be easy, coming there.

But she came anyway, not because she had to but because she wanted to.

She didn't have to count, didn't have to think or even look where she was going. The place was familiar, painfully so, and the ache in her chest persisted and grew with each soundless footfall. She barely hesitated when she veered off the path, her boot lingering upon the snow covered ground. She took a sharp painful breath in before taking the step she'd already known would feel more solid than the path she had just taken. Cold from within, she began to walk.

Each step brought with it each painful memory of that day. She remembered the black, remembered how much she had detested the sun for being up so high, yet have the gentle wind brush by her and everyone else in a gentle caress. It had felt wrong, so wrong, that something so devastating, so final was happening on such a pleasant day.

Never in her life had she wished it had been raining or, if not so, then something else that would have better matched her mood. Then again, what weather would go well with having your heart smashed into pieces as the rest of the little that was left of your life was finally torn down? If she'd been wounded and bleeding that day, she wouldn't have minded. It would have been come closest to showing to the rest of the world what she was feeling inside that no words could ever describe.

She ignored the way her feet fell against the cold ground, ignored the way her heart contracted with each step, the way it threatened to beat right out of her skin. She made her way through the maze of tombstones, a sea of gray set against the subtle blue the cold brought with it. She was experiencing the all too familiar tunnel vision she got whenever she came there and she didn't fight it. She never did.

Then, without ceremony, she stopped.

In calculated but gently respectful movements, bent her head low and took a deep breath in that, with the cold, felt like breathing in shards of glass straight into her lungs. Her eyes fell closed and her knees folded carefully underneath her until she was at level with the tombstone that bore what had once been her life before her.

Diane Lockhart took a second before opening her eyes once more, her lips falling open in an audible exhale.

_Stephen Carter Hastings, Beloved Husband_

And even after more than half a decade of seeing it, it still didn't feel right to see those words on the cold marble and like every time, it still robbed her of breath, still sent a knife straight to her heart.

Like shedding a cloak, she gently shed the façade of Senator Diane Lockhart and she allowed herself to be Diane Hastings, wife of Professor Stephen Hastings.

She laid a rose down, the tips of her fingers shaking despite the warm cocoon of leather they were wrapped so snugly in.

"I know you said you never understood why people brought flowers to the dead," she said quietly, her voice hoarse as if she'd been screaming for the last ten days, "You always said they'd be too dead to care…but I'll keep bringing them, Stephen. It's just one and it is quite lovely…I don't know if you see it—you certainly never believed the dead do, but…just in case, alright?"

Nodding a little, she rose back up, folding her arms, almost hugging herself as her eyes ran over the letters that had been more than burned into her memory. No matter how long, they'll never look right to her, never feel warranted. Marble, stone, granite—it didn't matter then, it didn't matter now.

His name should have never been on there and come what may, she knew she'd never feel different about this. Stephen Hastings had been a good man, a great, loving husband and he had been taken away from her all too soon.

And not even time can heal the wounds that the loss of him had left. It had slashed open her very soul and left it bleeding since the day she'd lost him to the day she herself died.

Diane closed her eyes again, the tears burning against them but she held them back. She missed him and she knew, no matter what, she would always miss him. Every day hurt, even on days when she felt she was truly fine, when she could actually breathe easier, but it still hurt a little. It would linger, it would _always_ linger and no amount of time, victory or power could ever change that.

He had been ripped from her and it wasn't fair. He had been too young—_they_ had been too young—to have been lost so soon.

Something warm trailed down her frozen cheek and Diane reached up, brushing it away without thought and proceeded to pinch the bridge of her nose. Her knees trembled, but not from the cold or for being tired. She'd stood longer everywhere else before, but the loss still made her weak. Her lashes were wet and her throat constricted and burned with the tears she refused to let down. In her silence, she listened to his warm, soothing voice, intimate and content, telling her he loved her.

"You could always make me laugh," she said quietly, speaking into an unseen world, "Oh, god, Stephen…I still miss you so much."

She pressed her fingers against her lips, closing her eyes tightly. She took a deep breath before shaking her head a little and wrapped her arms just a little bit tighter around herself once more.

The tears burned but she kept them in, never once allowing them to fall.

-o0o-

"I don't think this is healthy."

Justin Coyne didn't budge from his position next to the car, his sharp eyes scanning the grounds. Next to him, Annie Clawson stood, hunched slightly, her posture only dwarfing her more as she stood next to the man assigned to protect the Senator. Both of them were looking over the horizon, withstanding cold as the woman they both spent their days trailing after took in the moment of peace she had been granted.

Diane Lockhart's back was turned on them but neither of them allowed their eyes to linger on her. Coyne was busy keeping watch while Annie simply did not feel comfortable intruding on such a personal moment for the Senator. She hadn't been just trying to lure Eli Gold out when she said they more than pried into the older woman's life. Annie wanted to grant her as much privacy as she possibly could, even though she knew it wouldn't do much to make up for the lack of it in her life in general.

"It's too cold," Annie said quietly, wrapped in a sweater and her thick coat but still feeling the cold despite it all. Her clothes were much more thicker than Diane's, she couldn't imagine how she was coping in the high temperatures in the time she'd spent standing in the cold for as long as she had. "She might get sick."

"What do you want me to do?" Coyne asked quietly, "I can't just haul her back in."

"I didn't say you should," Annie turned her nose up slightly, "I'm just saying…I'm just worried."

"You always worry when she comes here," Coyne accused.

Annie bristled slightly, "Yes, I do. It's…you haven't been around as long as we have. She hasn't exactly been grieving properly since, well, since her husband passed away."

"That's really out of my purview," the taller man muttered, "Why don't you call Mr. Gold?"

She shook her head slightly, "He's at a thing…and honestly, I'm just, well, there isn't anything anyone can do. I'm just cold and nervous, you know? Just being an idiot."

Coyne's lip curled slightly, "You are many things, Miss Clawson, but I hardly think being an idiot is one of them. Just a thought."

"Aww, that's sweet," Annie smiled up at the man though he still refused to look at her, "Thank you, Justin."

"You're welcome, Miss Annie."

"It's still too cold," she sighed, "And it's sad…I'm sad. I never met him but he was a good man, that much was clear. And it was so sudden...it must have been just devastating."

Coyne shifted slightly, "I read the file."

"And I only read the facts," she shrugged, "It was too horrible…and it didn't feel right to keep digging at something we really had no business digging in. But the press releases, interviews…the speeches. It had to be addressed somehow and getting her ready for those—even though she was practically a pro already when I came into the picture—it needed to be done but that doesn't make it any less invasive than it was."

Coyne glanced slightly beside him, watching the woman for a moment as she unburdened herself onto him. He knew she hadn't planned to do this but he understood how it came about. It was one thing to have the guilt festering just underneath the surface, to see the object of her guilt's grief physically present itself in such a form? Well, she'd have to have been made of stone not to react to it somehow. And Coyne knew Annie Clawson all too well by not to know she was definitely _not _made of stone.

Still though, the situation was difficult enough for one person, adding someone else just wasn't a good choice.

He cleared his throat slightly and said in a tone that would make sure she would know he was only slightly teasing, "You know I'm not supposed to be discussing my protectee like this, right?"

Annie nodded, glancing at him, "And I'm not supposed to be talking to you but, well, what can you do, right?"

He smirked, "You're a bad influence."

"I know," she nodded and leaned back against the car, "But I know you, Mr. Coyne. You can break a couple of rules like this, but I trust you. She's in good hands and I believe that."

Coyne nodded, "I appreciate that, Miss Annie."

Puckering her lips slightly with a grin, she moved closer towards the man and nudged at him playfully. She laughed when he barely moved, standing as still as ever, echoing his training and his staunch readiness. Annie smiled, amused, but still strongly resolute in faith when it came to Justin Coyne's abilities to protect.

Catching in the distance not too far off, they spotted the slightly movement at the same time. Annie glanced at Coyne as she straightened up, pushing down the non-existent wrinkles on her coat as she composed herself once more. They didn't speak as they watched the Senator move forward to touch the tombstone that marked her husband's resting place slightly before moving slowly away.

They both stood just a little bit straighter as Diane Lockhart turned to head back towards their direction. As she drew nearer, they both averted their eyes, making sure not to gawk and respected the woman's grief and dignity in silence, waiting until she was back with them once more.

Nobody spoke as the Senator slipped back into the car, followed by Annie and allowed Coyne to shut the door securely behind them.

The Senior Aide settled back against her seat and glanced at the older woman from under her lashes. Even in the warmth of the interior of the car, Diane had kept her coat wrapped tightly around her, keeping it in place by her arms crossed firmly across her chest. She was staring unblinkingly out the window though Annie was willing to bet that she wasn't seeing anything at all. In the waning light, she could see what little the woman's profile would reveal—the set of her mouth, the shadows under her eyes and the unusual and somewhat unhealthy paleness of her skin.

Just watching the older woman made her feel a slight ache in her chest and she couldn't imagine how it must be to be in her shoes. And somewhat selfishly, she hoped she never had to. She wasn't sure if she had it in her to find out just how capable she was of being strong and how much she could withstand such onslaught.

It took Annie a moment to realize she had done what she had been trying so hard not to do before. She looked away, ashamed for staring at the drawn woman beside her and piercing the privacy of her grief.

But even then, the slight ache in her chest persisted in the silence of the car.

-o0o-

"Well, that's a technical knockout if I've ever seen one."

Kurt smiled, watching his daughter as she lay sprawled out on the couch, arms thrown about with her hair covering half her face. There was still a dusting of flour on her cheek and her shirt while her feet were still encased in the Uggs she had been using around the house.

"I swear, that's the first time I've ever seen that girl silent," De Luca remarked as he entered the living room, "Wait, she doesn't snore, does she?"

Ethel smacked her husband's arm as she passed him, "Stop it, you. That girl has been hard at work all day."

De Luca nodded, sinking into a cushioned seat next to the couch, "I know, I know. I'm just saying. That girl is…well, she's a smartass."

"Keep talking like that and she'll wake up, you know," Kurt said from his spot, brushing back the hair from his daughter's face.

"Fine," De Luca muttered, "She didn't cook dinner, did she?"

"Nah, just baked the place out," Kurt replied, "But Ethel did and it was amazing, of course."

"Well, thank you, _Kurt_," Ethel said pointedly and gave her husband the dirty eye, "Aren't you a sweet man."

"Ethy, come on," De Luca all but pouted in that way only he could.

"Antonio, I have been on my feet all day, do not start."

Cowed, De Luca simply continued to pout but kept his mouth silent, shooting his best friend a look who simply shrugged at him and grinned from his spot on the couch by his daughter.

"God, but honestly, I _am_ beat," Ethel said and basically plopped herself down over her husband, landing on him and knocking the air out of his lungs slightly despite her petite frame.

"Oof—!" her husband's choked response came.

"You okay back there, sugar plum?" Ethel asked with mock sweetness.

Kurt hid his smile, more than used to their ways.

"Just fine, dear," De Luca muttered, pressing a kiss against the side of her head.

"Anyway," Ethel beamed, "The cookies are all done, the den has been set up perfectly for a posse of over-excited thirteen-year-olds and Madison's bag for the trip back to the country has been packed."

"Productive day," Kurt quipped then softened, turning towards Ethel, "Thank you, Ethy…I don't know what we'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out, sugar," Ethel winked, "Speaking of, when do—"

She stopped when the doorbell suddenly rang, the melodious tone travelling softly through the house and into the living room seamlessly. She glanced at her watch, "Well, who could that be?"

"Nobody good," De Luca muttered, moving from behind his wife and heading for the drawer where he usually kept his gun.

"Honey, I don't think that's necessary…"

"Won't risk it," De Luca muttered as he watched Kurt move out into the hall and towards the door.

"I swear, you've gone all cuckoo since last week, dear husband, and I am telling you now…it ain't pretty."

Kurt moved towards the door, glancing at his friend over his shoulder before opening the door only to find a young man who, at first glance, he could only assume was a messenger of some sort, "Yes?"

"Good evening, sir," the young man said, "Kurt McVeigh?"

He nodded, "Yeah. That's me."

"I have something for you," he pulled out a thin packet in plastic and a clipboard, "If you could just sign here?"

Kurt did and glancing at the package in his hand as he signed and handed it back to him, "Here."

"And here you go," he smiled pleasantly then shook his head as he saw him move to get some money out of his pocket, "Oh, that's not necessary, sir. It's been paid for."

"Yeah, but it's the holidays," Kurt shrugged and handed the younger man a bill before taking the packet from him, "Thanks."

"Thank you, sir," he grinned, "Happy holidays."

"You too."

"Whatcha got there?" Ethel asked from her spot on the chair, her husband back with her once more and she was still sitting practically on top of him as they both squeezed in the seat together though neither of them seemed to mind at all.

"Don't know," Kurt shrugged, raising an eyebrow at the unmarked plastic cover and proceeded to open it, "Well…alright."

"What is it?"

"Uh, I'm not sure…I think it's a joke."

"A what?" Ethel asked, her perfectly groomed eyebrows shooting upwards.

They both watched as he pulled out an envelope, putting the plastic cover aside and read the back before pulling out a cream colored paper.

"Love letter?" De Luca rumbled with a grin.

"Not exactly," Kurt looked up, "Did you know about this?"

"Know about what?" the detective frowned, "What the hell is that?"

"It's an invitation," he frowned, "To the Governor's thing…that party they have? The one they do every year during the holidays?"

"The Winter Gala?" Ethel stood up, "You got an invitation to the Winter Gala?"

"Well, somebody did because there's no way _I _should get one…"

Ethel took the envelope from him as well as the packet it arrived in. She read the note attached to the envelope and turned towards her husband, "It looks real."

"The Governor's party?" De Luca said dubiously, "You're kidding me, right?"

"No," Ethel shook her head, "It's got his name on it and everything—on the invitation _and_ the envelope. It's not a mistake."

De Luca looked at Kurt, "You been holding out on me, buddy?"

"'course not," the other man replied, "Any idea how this happened?"

"How would I know?" De Luca shrugged and then, slowly, he began to grin, "You going?"

"What? Why should I? I'm not exactly the party type."

"Well, it's a party and there's gonna be a lot of booze and—"

"Booze, that's your selling point?"

"And people would kill to get in one of those—"

"—not exactly a selling point too—"

"—and those invitations are expensive as hell. If you're getting a free invite—"

"—I can eat just as well at home and—"

"—but there's nothing like rubbing elbows with the big kahunas of the city—"

"—since when did I ever give a—"

"Hey, boys…"

"—well, it's something, ain't it? Seriously, just get a monkey suit on, play nice and—"

"Boys!"

"What?" both men turned towards the petite missus who was watching them both, hands on her hips and a distinctly unhappy look upon her face. Ethel De Luca was not a woman who liked to be ignored.

"What are the chances this is your lady friend, Kurt?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow, "My what?"

"Diane Lockhart," Ethel shrugged one shoulder, handing him back the envelope, "What're the chances it's from her?"

"I…why would she-I mean…" he stopped, "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I haven't spoken with her since…what? I can't even be sure when," Kurt shrugged, "It's not from her."

"Then who else could it be?" Ethel asked.

"I don't know, but it's _not_ her," Kurt said, taking the invitation back, placing it on the coffee table, "And it doesn't matter, alright? Because I'm not going."

De Luca sighed from his spot on the couch, hanging his head for a moment before looking at his friend, "Listen, man, I was kidding, but…you sure about this? I mean…alright, she's not exactly someone I'd go for but if this is her then, why not?"

"Because it's not her, alright?" Kurt shook his head, slipping his hands into the pocket of his jeans, "I don't know who this could be, but it's not her."

"How would you know?" Ethel asked.

"She's in Washington, isn't she? It's all over the news," Kurt said, "And if that was her…she'd have written her name. I don't know her, but I'd know that much."

De Luca nodded, "So, if not her…then who?"

"I don't know," Kurt shrugged, "And honestly? I don't care."

"You should at least consider it, you know?" Ethel offered.

"If I say I will, would you get off my back?"

"Only if you mean it," she smiled.

"Fine, I will and I mean it," he gave her a wry grin then tilted his head towards the kitchen, "Come on…you two said you wanted to have a drink and cookies."

Ethel looked at her husband who gave her a resigned shrug before getting up, meeting his friend across the room and patting him on the back before they both moved on back to the kitchen.

She stayed back for a moment, glancing at the envelope and the invitation that lay on top of it. Her fingers itched to pick it up but she resisted, clasping her hands together before rolling her eyes at herself. She stared at it, hesitating once more before audibly expressing her frustration with an unintelligible sound and walking out of the room. She wasn't one to interfere but she was seriously beginning to think she needed to smack Kurt McVeigh upside the head just to knock some sense into him.

Truthfully, she didn't care where the invitation came from. Ethel was sure she had read somewhere Diane Lockhart had been confirmed to appear in the Governor's party and as much as she didn't want to interfere, she couldn't help but wish anyway.

She had no idea who the woman truly was but from what she'd heard and observed, she did truly think Diane couldn't be such a bad match for Kurt. She didn't care about the politics or about the finer points—maybe except for the matter of the press—because all she cared about was if Kurt McVeigh had a chance at happiness, then why not let him have it?

Ethel De Luca knew many things and one of them was that even though Kurt McVeigh was seemingly content with his life, she didn't believe for one minute he was complete. She knew what kind of man he was, knew that in all the years he had spent caring for his daughter, he had disregarded some of his own needs in the process. He was that kind of man, that kind of a father, but Ethel knew that it couldn't always be about the children. To be content was nice, but Ethel knew that real happiness was even better.

Not that he wasn't happy—the man genuinely loved his daughter and she made him happy. But somehow, Ethel knew it was different. Having a spouse, a better half, was infinitely better than being alone. And she knew well enough how it felt to have someone by your side, someone who'd always be there, someone to love. And Ethel wanted that for Kurt.

She cared quite deeply for the man and she wished for him the same kind of happiness she had been so generously blessed with.

Torn, Ethel De Luca walked away, valiantly trying to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of her mind and spent the rest of the night trying to ignore the cream colored invitation.

And the possibilities it brought with it.


End file.
